


Bond Bright

by Caedes12



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bonding, Illnesses, Kinda, Light Angst, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, but not, but not like 'soul mates', its detailed in the warnings, lets talk about our feelings kids, navigating stereotypes, soul bonds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24040318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedes12/pseuds/Caedes12
Summary: When he came of age, he never presented as an Alpha, Beta or an Omega, which wasn’t necessarily uncommon. Everyone had assumed after defeating one of the strongest Alphas ever known, Harry would take up the mantle. But he hadn't. After years of believing he was just someone who hadn't presented, Harry is presenting as an Omega.But something is wrong. He can't hold anything down, he can't seem to get out of a pseudo 'heat'. And his Healer can't help him. So it is time to reach out for a second opinion.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 95
Kudos: 1052
Collections: Drarry 💜





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I started writing this two years ago. TWO! It has been like pulling teeth to get this story out of me. Is it particularly good to have been waiting this long? I have no idea. Honestly, I've reread it so many times that I can't tell what is north or south anymore. It's not even a particularly long story. Writing has been difficult for me as of late, but I am hoping to get back into it. 
> 
> I think I let the 'fandom' get the best of me. I started worrying about what people wanted me to write, rather than writing about what I liked. I started hyper analyzing everything, worried about what people would say. And it started to impact my stories. Which I think is why I have had trouble writing. I haven't done what the characters are telling me to do-- or perhaps too many voices in my head telling me what the character should be doing. 
> 
> Annnyyy way. I hope to write more. And I do hope you enjoy this bit of trope. I enjoy the A/B/O dynamics fics myself, and I wanted to have a go at it.

Harry was shaking as he wiped throw up off his face with a napkin. The nausea was never ending, the headache that pulsed from the back of his skull to the front hadn’t stopped. Tears unwillingly surged, but he blinked them back quickly. He refused to cry _again_ —at least for the moment. He sat back, leaning against the wall and heard the crunch of his diaper as he did. Tears burned and he nearly choked to try to force them down. It was embarrassing. One could have argued that he could use some humbling, but this was humiliating to the extreme.

The war had ended a little over ten years ago. Harry had taken up law, amidst a few side projects. He had found the best way to change the system was to actually know the laws that kept the system from working seamlessly. He realized after years of his life being on the line, he liked his quiet office and endless amounts of tea. If he had been asked in school he would have said how much he hated reading and research. Now he went toe to toe with Hermione. Or at least he did. Before all _this_ happened.

 _This_ was difficult to explain. When he came of age, he never presented as an Alpha, Beta or an Omega, which wasn’t necessarily uncommon. Everyone had assumed after defeating one of the strongest Alphas ever known, Harry would take up the mantle. It wasn’t an exact science, but usually around eighteen it would happen. Some presented early, some later, and some not at all. Of course, it was great conjecture in the Prophet. Harry was grateful that he never presented, which he had said when pressed too many times about the topic. _Was he disappointed he wasn’t an Alpha?_ It had been asked too many times. _No_. He answered nearly every time—except for the one time when Luna had interviewed him for an exclusive in the Quibbler. He was grateful he never presented because it was just one more _thing_. His life had been a ball full of yarn anyway, in this one area he could just relax.

Merlin how he wishes that were true now.

He leaned over and threw up again, though it was most dry heaving. He sat back down and felt too squishy, but he tried to ignore the wet feeling for a bit longer.

“Harry?” Ron called to him.

“Yeah.” Harry said back. The light to the bathroom was off but the door was propped open, “I’m in here.”

“Think you can handle a Vitality potion?” Ron asked as he pushed open the door. His voice was soft as he sat down across from Harry. Harry started fighting tears again. Ron always made Harry feel some sort of normal. It was difficult to be around Hermione who viewed him as some sort of research experiment, no matter how much she tried to act otherwise. Ron was just there for him—unashamedly in his corner. When the prodding got too much, when Harry was too embarrassed to even think—Ron was there for him.

“Maybe?” Harry whispered.

“The second opinion Healer is going to be here soon.” That had been Ron’s idea. The old Healer that had poked and jabbed Harry held his condition against him. Harry hadn’t liked him, but respected his expertise in the beginning. But after two weeks of this, he couldn’t take it anymore. He felt a bit ridiculous that it had only been two weeks, but every moment felt infinite. He might throw up at an instant, his body felt clammy like he had _just_ thrown up.

Harry presented as an Omega.

It hadn’t gone at all to plan—which probably could be the slogan of his life. Harry’s magic had gone a bit erratic. His body was craving a mate. An Alpha. The weirdest part was not one Alpha with the intention of satiating his heat could come into the same room as Harry. Their feet would stop in their place, no matter how much they wanted to help. There had been fifteen different Alphas that had all tried on Harry’s behalf, and none of them were able to walk into the room. Only Charlie Weasley had been somewhat close, but then Harry’s magic had thrown him back.

The old healer thought it might be Harry’s inability to date that made it unstable, but Harry wasn’t as certain. With his own research, he surmised, between throwing up, was that there had to be a compatibility level that hadn’t been found yet. Reison, the old healer, wouldn’t entertain the thought. Said it was old folklore and had no basis in science. Which Harry would have respected if Reison had been able to heal him. But he wasn’t getting anywhere.

Harry put the vitality potion to his lips and managed to sip. He took another one before his stomach rolled and he put the bottle down. He blinked a few times, hoping that the awful feeling would go away. He felt hallow, like all his insides were melting away.

An Omega, according to the record books, had never presented like this before. There was hardly any record of an Omega presenting at 28, and no record of survival. Harry understood why. If this is what it felt like to be an Omega, he wouldn’t do it. Every moment was agonizing. He could hardly do anything.

Reison had published papers written that this happened when an Omega’s magic was too weak to make the transition. He hadn’t tried to say that to Harry. No one thought Harry was weak—he was one of the strongest wizards alive according to most intellectuals and the Prophet.

“Want me to help you up?” Ron asked.

“You’d better carry me if we want to get to my bed before the new Healer gets here.” Harry said. Ron nodded. He scooped Harry up, huffing a bit as he stood. Harry pressed his face into the thick Weasley sweater and away from Ron as more tears threatened. This was embarrassing. He would never not appreciate being able to walk on his own again.

Ron gently put him down in his hospital bed. The mint green color of the blanket made Harry feel as tired as the color looked, “We’ll change this too.” Ron said, touching Harry’s diaper.

“Do I?” Harry asked, not able to keep the choke of his voice back.

“Yeah, you’re leaking through.” Ron said it simply and without judgement, but it still felt like a dagger in Harry’s heart. Omega’s produced slick, making it easier for an Alpha to fuck him. Ron had been the one to find Harry at home alone when had presented. He was throwing up on the toilet, his jeans soaked through when he passed out. Ron woke him up and cleaned him a bit before taking him to St Mungo’s, just so Harry didn’t lose every shred of pride. Harry picked his arse up so a towel could be put underneath. Ron eased the draw string pajama bottoms off, grabbing a new pair from the clean laundry. He pulled the tabs on the diaper.

The signs had been there, looking back a month ago when he started to feel _off_. He was glad he had an office job, because being out and about he wouldn’t have been able to show up to work. He drank cups of tea to revitalize him—some pepper up. Nothing worked. His bones ached. It was all the classic signs of presenting, but it was also signs of a cold. Harry blew them off as such.

Ron cleaned him up and put a new diaper on him, “You’re much better at this than Rose.” Rose was nearly a year old.

“I’m glad.” Harry said with a choked laugh as Ron finished putting on the clean diaper. Harry was thrilled to not feel so wet, he just wished he didn’t have to go through that humiliation every time.

“Next time I shit my pants, you owe me.” That made Harry laugh, even though more tears leaked out. Ron smiled down at him, pulling up his new pajama bottoms, “And I know I’m a messy drunk, so that’s on you too.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Harry didn’t swear to do it, he wasn’t sure if he would survive this anyway. Ron squeezed his hand as he sat down in the chair next to his bed.

“You’re going to get through this.” Ron whispered, like he had read Harry’s thoughts.

“I’m just not sure how much more in me I have left.” Harry confessed. He was trying to say positive, because he knew that was part of the battle. But he couldn’t keep up pretenses much longer.

“We got a new Healer coming in, hopefully they’ll have an answer.” Ron squeezed his hand. Harry wasn’t so optimistic. If it was a simple fix, it would have been figured out by now. There was a gentle knock on the door, which saved Harry from having to respond.

“Harry?” Hermione looked tired. Though it had been Ron’s idea to find a new healer, it was Hermione that did all the research to find one. Her hair was pulled up high on her head in a messy bun—usually a classic sign she had been up all night studying while they were in Hogwarts, “The new Healer is outside, I’m just—going to warn you—he’s a bit different then Reison. You might not like him but, I think he might be able to help.”

“Bring him in Mione.” Harry huffed. He was basically on his death bed, he didn’t care if the Healer was Voldemort. Well—maybe he cared then. When the door opened, Harry couldn’t believe who was standing in the entryway.

“Potter.” Blaise Zabini looked extremely formal in his white Healer robes.

“As if this wasn’t humiliating enough.” Harry said. He couldn’t even get angry, all he wanted to do was cry. Reison was standing in the background with his clipboard and a stern eye. He was upset as soon as Harry asked for a second opinion.

“I’m a professional, Mr. Potter. I assure you my credentials speak for themselves.” Zabini said. Harry looked to Hermione.

“He graduated top of his class as a Healer and took a specialty in ABO dynamics. They say he is a prodigy to the field and completely reinventing it.” Hermione said.

“So they _say_.” Reison said critically, “Lots of theories, not a lot of _patients._ ”

“That is true, but I’ve met with remarkable success with the patients I’ve had.” Zabini frowned, “Let me look over the information you have—I won’t do any more tests—I’m sure you’ve had enough of those anyway. Let me look through those notes and come up with some ideas. More minds can only help.”

Harry gripped the ugly hospital blanket, “You won’t speak to anyone?”

“You have my word.” Zabini said seriously.

“Let him have a look then.” Harry told Reison.

“I don’t believe you are of the proper mental capacity to make such a medical decision.” Reison replied, looking a bit haughty. Harry knew exactly what he was doing. He was trying to get Zabini thrown off the case by the medical hospital board, which analyzed cases where the patient wasn’t able to make the decision and either had no family, or the family disagreed on best care.

“I am fully medically capable, and even then, Hermione and Ron take my legal decisions when I am incapacitated. The documents have all been filled out appropriately, I assure you. And they are in agreement on this matter—or at least I believe so.” Ron and Hermione both nodded, “You will allow Zabini to review the medical tests.” Harry glared at Reison, who just meekly nodded and walked out of the room.

“Fascinating.” Zabini said with a grin, “Reison’s an Alpha.”

“I know.” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, “I think I might throw up again.” Ron moved the tray quickly just in time for Harry to get sick. It was mostly the vitality potion that had only partially been digested.

“I’ll go look for those results.” Zabini walked out of the room.

“He almost looked excited.” Ron said with a frown.

“I think he _is_ excited to look at this case.” Hermione said, brushing Harry’s hair back as she vanished the sick out of the bin. Her nails felt wonderful, easing the headache slightly.

“We don’t want him too giddy.” Ron argued.

“I think it’s just excitement in his field, not because he’s odd—or at least I don’t think.” Hermione said with a shrug.

“He might be odd, but just really invested in all this wonderfulness.” Harry said, motioning to himself.

“Your ego is coming through again.” Hermione teased with a smile. Hermione and Ron were both Betas, so they had no trouble coming to sit by Harry’s bed. Reison could only could stand it because he had no intention of mating Harry as he had a mate of his own.

Zabini popped his head into the room, “I’m going to owl Madam Pumfrey for your medical records at Hogwarts, do you mind signing this so she has permission to share?”

Harry asked as he signed, “You think this goes back to then?”

“Never hurts to look.” Zabini took the paper and left the room without another word.

“Not the best bedside manner.” Ron said as he put his feet up on Harry’s bed.

“As long as he fixes me, I don’t care.” Harry said with a sigh. Hermione was still running her fingers through his hair, it felt wonderful. He wanted to curl up, but he knew that might make him throw up again.

“How are you feeling?” Hermione asked.

“Great, I don’t know why everyone insists on keeping me locked in here.” Harry said, a small smile on his lips. Hermione grinned.

“I read keeping your feet up above your head helps.” Hermione said.

“No more tricks and tips—what you’re doing feels wonderful.” Harry said, his eyes fluttering shut. He could sense that Ron and Hermione were having some sort of weird couple no words conversation while his eyes were closed, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.


	2. War with Instincts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to get well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nervous about posting this chapter. Thanks for being excited to go on this journey with me! 
> 
> WARNINGS and SPOILERS are in the notes at the end.

It was two days after Zabini had started trying to care for Harry too that the pain started. It hurt in his arse which made him extremely reluctant to tell anyone. If he would just keep his eyes closed long enough, it would go away. Hermione and Ron had gone out briefly for lunch, Harry had insisted they get real food somewhere else and he would be _fine_ for a couple of hours. Zabini was back in the room, writing notes but not saying anything. He is also an alpha, who clearly had no problems walking in and out of the room. But also one that had no intention of trying to mate Harry. Harry was starting to wonder why they had brought him on if all he was going to do was write notes. Keeping pain to himself wasn’t exactly new, so he was quite good at it.

“Potter, hiding things from your Healers isn’t helpful.” Zabini said, his brown eyes piercing him.

Harry flushed, “I’m not hiding anything.”

“You’re in pain.” Zabini put down his notebook and pen, “You keep wincing, and you’re holding onto the bed railing too tightly for someone who is relaxing.”

“Just trying not to get sick.” Harry defended himself.

“ _Potter_.” Zabini huffed.

Harry’s heart fluttered, and he really didn’t want to cry in front of Zabini. He didn’t want to admit to a new symptom. He wanted this to stop. _Now_. He wanted to throw himself off the roof of St Mungo’s if he had the energy to get there. This was horrifyingly embarrassing.

Harry rubbed his face, keeping his eyes covered, “My butt hurts.” He admitted as he kept his eyes closed and tears bubbled up. There was a rustle of robes, but Harry didn’t uncover his face. They had upgraded him to thicker diapers yesterday, and that had been hell enough. Harry wasn’t sure how much more he could take of this humiliation.

“I’m going to run a few diagnostics.” Harry still had his eyes covered. Blaise’s tone was even and patient, but it didn’t help Harry feel better, “I’m going to give you a muscle relaxant.”

“Great.” Harry said sarcastically. _More_ diapers. He kept his face covered.

“Chin up Potter, you’re not a hopeless case.” Zabini said, the chair making a noise as he sat down.

“You find something?” Harry asked, not moving his hands.

“Should I wait until Granger and Weasley get back to present my findings?”

“Yes.” Harry nodded, “Unless you know now it’s a pill to fix me.”

“Muggle pills won’t fix this.” Zabini said evenly, like he didn’t understand sarcasm.

“I figured not. I just hoped it would be simple.”

“Alpha, Beta and Omega dynamics are incredibly complicated. Each case is unique. Some have simple solutions.”

“What got you into this?” Harry asked.

He looked like he was going to give an answer, then bit his lip. He relaxed, his face more open, “My mother, I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors.”

“Of course.” Harry knew his mother had seven previous husbands that had all died in mysterious circumstances.

“You’d think the seventh one would have been wary—or even Mr. Eight at the moment. But she uses her instincts, her Omega abilities to her advantage.” Blaise said and Harry noticed he didn’t confirm the rumors—but he didn’t deny them either.

“I don’t want eight partners.” Harry said.

Blaise chortled, “No, but I want you to be able to use your instincts how you wish. I think that is everyone’s hope.”

“We brought you back some food Harry.” Ron announced as he walked into the room, “You’re in my chair Zabini.”

“Oh don’t pay attention to him.” Hermione said, conjuring two chairs on the opposite side of Harry’s bed.

“Think you can eat it?” Ron asked.

“Samosas!” Harry said excitedly, but even the smell made his stomach roll, “Maybe later.”

“I’ll tell you my observations.” Zabini flipped open his notebook. The stomach rolling was not stopping, so Harry grabbed the tray quick enough to throw up in it. It was mostly water and some nutrition potion. His ability to eat kept declining, which was concerning. He knew he had lost weight since he got to St. Mungo’s, but he hadn’t looked in a mirror. Hermione cleaned him up before he sat back, “Your magic levels at Hogwarts were very different than what they are now. I’m surprised no one caught your changes back at Hogwarts. I looked at Madam Pumfrey’s notes on two separate tests she did—one after the third task in our fourth year and one when she checked you over after the final battle. You were repressed your fourth year, it is obvious you were probably late to develop sexually. Your magical hormones that regulate that were repressed. You gave many mixed signs—but some of them have distinct Alpha signatures. It’s not exact, but I would have put money on it. But you’re reading after the battle has distinct differences. Your levels look much _stronger_ in terms of magic, but different than before.

“I assume stress, or a variety of other factors—maybe sheer will—kept that oppressed for your youth. This line sort of reads like a gentle slope. Sexual desire doesn’t appear out of nowhere one day, it grows as you get more comfortable in your body. Some people this goes quicker than others.” He showed Harry the chart.

“Could some _thing_ suppress the levels?” Hermione asked, and Harry’s stomach dropped—his horcrux.

“I’ve never seen it so diminished before. I assumed it was the war, though it didn’t effect anyone else to Harry’s degree, I would certainly say he was one of the most involved.”

“I was a Horcrux.” Harry whispered, “Part of Riddle’s soul was latched to mine. I killed it off before the final battle.” Blaise turned pale, then looked down at his notes.

“That would fit. It would certainly explain why you had some Alpha tendencies. I believe because the two warring parts of you—and make no mistake, they were warring. I don’t believe one was winning versus another. When you killed that part of you, you let your _real_ self start to develop.” Blaise looked up at him, “Reison is healing you under the assumption that Omegas are weaker than Alphas, but that is a flawed and detrimental argument to your healing. It is an old way of thinking. When he was in here the first day, he used his Alpha abilities to try to force you to change your mind about me. You didn’t even blink before you argued back.”

“He was being ridiculous.”

Blaise nodded, “Most of the Omegas I have worked with have trouble disobeying direct orders from Alphas. I train them to use their instincts to get out of it. Your magic signature is also something I have never seen before. The rumors are not exaggerated—you are definitely one of the strongest wizards of our time. How Reison could even begin to heal you with the assumption Omegas are weaker is absurd, the evidence is in numbers right in front of his face.”

“But why is this happening to me?” Harry asked.

“I believe the suppressant is responsible for this—and now that I know the true cause, I definitely think it is the suppressant. Your body has been forced to develop later, and it is not something you focused on after the battle if the articles in the Prophet are to be believed.” Harry nodded, “I think only radical intervention after the battle could have stopped this from happening.”

“So am I going to die?” Harry whispered.

“No, you just need a mate.”

“We tried that.” Harry argued, frowning.

“No, you tried Alphas.” Blaise corrected, “You need a mate who is equal or stronger than you are.”

“And we’re supposed to find one of those just wandering around Diagon?” Ron asked, “You said he is one of the strongest wizards in our time.”

“I believe I know someone who may be compatible.” Blaise said, closing his notes, “The Alpha power will act as an anchor, leveling you out. I believe your hormone levels will go back to normal.”

“You think?” Hermione asked, “So he has to find a mate for the rest of his life—

“We both know mates don’t necessarily work out.” Blaise cut her off, “The bond can be re-solidified with someone else if Harry finds a new partner. If that partner is not strong enough, I assume Ginevra has already tried?” Harry nodded, “Then you can stay tied to the other Alpha.”

“He’ll have to have sex with the Alpha.” Ron pointed out.

“Yes, in the beginning regularly until his hormones level out. But once they do, I believe he’ll able to lead a normal life.”

“The Alpha?” Harry asked.

“I have to ask him first—do you mind if it is a him? I saw from previous tests that both genders tried before.”

“I go either way.” Harry said.

“If he says no?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t think he will turn it down, I wouldn’t have gotten your hopes up if otherwise. But if he does, I will find someone else.” Blaise said.

“If we can’t find anybody?” Hermione asked.

“We will.” Blaise said definitely.

“So we find someone or I die?” Harry asked.

“No, we try other methods. I think this way is the safest and has less long-term effects.”

“Just the long-term effect of having a mate” Ron said with a snort.

“You were willing to try it before” Blaise pointed out.

“With people we trust! And just fucking.” Ron argued.

“You will come to trust him. And I think the bond will be integral to the betterment of his health.” Blaise said patiently.

“I’ll meet with him.” Harry said, and Ron spluttered, “With my luck he won’t be able to get in the door.”

“That’s the spirit.” Blaise said, hopping up to his feet, “I’ll be back in a few hours.” The door shut and Hermione and Ron both turned to him.

“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” Hermione asked, brushing his hair back.

“I’m not sure I have much of a choice.” Harry let out a breath, “Let’s hope he’s at least hot.” He felt like he had to make a joke given the situation, otherwise it was too sad to consider. Ron snorted.

Hermione bit her lip, like she was trying to hold herself back but then she said, “I know this has been difficult, but I don’t want you to jump at a solution.”

“Hermione, I’m pretty sure if Voldemort walked into the door with a solution to this, I would sign up for it. Or Death. I can’t take much more of this. My body is falling apart anyway—I can’t keep any food down.” Harry tried to sound angry, but he just sounded exhausted.

“But Harry—

“I’m in agony at every moment, I’ve barely slept. That doesn’t even include how _embarrassing—_

“Harry, it doesn’t bother us—”

“But it bothers _me_!” Harry broke Hermione off before she could continue. Ron squeezed his arm, but Harry turned into the bin and threw up. The anger had distracted him from his nausea for moments, but not long enough. He wiped his mouth clean and lay back. Hermione had tears in her eyes as she brushed through his hair again.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Hermione asked Ron.

“No—I understand what Harry is saying.” Ron whispered. Hermione turned her head as more tears fell down her cheeks. She reached out with her hand to hold onto Harry’s.

“I wish we could help you.” Hermione whispered into her lap, not looking at Harry.

“I know.” Harry said, “And I’m not necessarily comfortable pimping myself out either.” He meant it as a joke, but it fell a little flat. He didn’t really want to have sex in order to live. It wasn’t fair that his body wouldn’t let him survive without it.

Hermione squeezed his hand, “I’m sorry Harry—I should have thought of this years ago.”

“No, it’s not your fault Mione. I hadn’t presented, no one could have thought of this.” Harry shoved down the rolling of his stomach, trying not to think about it, “Plus, when have I not taken the most difficult route?”

Ron snorted, looking a bit emotional himself, “I wish we could have found a better answer.”

“Me too.” Harry blinked back tears. He tried not to think of the man that was going to walk through the door. Some random ass person who was going to fuck him so that he could live. This was more fucked up than he thought. _Why_ had he come back only to endure this? It wasn’t fair.

“Potter?” Blaise was at the door. He couldn’t breathe, “Can I bring him in?” His heart felt like it was in his chest and he wasn’t sure if he was going to throw up again.

“If you can.” Harry answered. He gripped the railing of his bed tightly, equally terrified that the man would be able to walk into the room and that he wouldn’t. He wanted this to end. Time slowed down as Blaise turned back to talk to whomever was outside. Hermione kissed his forehead. He wasn’t sure if he could go through disappointment again—he wasn’t sure he could handle the solution.

The man walked through the door right behind Blaise, Harry instantly wanted a time turner to go back and refuse this solution. He wanted to yell at his past self that the humiliation was only going to be a thousand times worse if he said yes.

“Potter.” Malfoy was standing at the end of his bed.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Harry asked, just because he had to have someone say it. It felt like he had left his body and was watching as an onlooker. His hands were sweating and his body felt too hot.

“I believe I can fix your problem.” Malfoy stated.

“ _Fuck off_.” Harry replied vehemently. Ron and Hermione started yelling at Blaise. Harry just wanted his wand. He wanted to hex himself for thinking Zabini would help him. He couldn’t believe _Malfoy_ was seeing him like this. How many laughs would Malfoy get knowing he had seen Harry in a diaper? Harry’d get Hermione to do a memory charm on the ferret.

“Everyone calm the fuck down!” Malfoy yelled, and surprisingly Hermione and Ron fell silent. Harry felt his stomach roll, “I’m not here for laughs. Potter, I think I can help you. And if I understand your problem correctly, that I’m in this room is a significant step forward.”

Rage surged through Harry, “So you can lord over me forever? I don’t think so.” Harry snorted, “I’d rather die.”

“Lucky for you, _that’s an option_.” Malfoy snapped back.

“Draco!” Blaise held out a hand, just as Ron pulled out his wand, “No need to escalate this. Put your wand down and just hear me out.” Ron stared hard, but put his wand away, “Draco is the strongest Alpha I have come in contact with. I think he may be one of the only people alive that could balance you out. And yes, you two have history, but at least you know him. There aren’t any skeletons in his closet that you don’t already know about.”

“That’s assuming he’s clean now.” Ron glared.

“My business is regularly looked at by aurors. I run a clean business—ask your wife.”

Ron turned to Hermione who turned a bit pink, “I’ve shopped at his store a few times.” It was a sort of Borgin and Burkes shop that had a bit of everything. There was an apothecary section and a books section. Harry had actually been in it as well.

“Me too.” Harry confessed. He had gone in out of morbid curiosity, but he found himself wandering the store for a while. There was a comfy section with tea and chairs so you could read a book before purchasing. Harry had gotten lost in the store awhile, but he had figured out Malfoy didn’t work Wednesdays so he didn’t have to worry about running into him.

“Harry, I really do think this method is the best way to solve your problems.” Blaise said, taking the seat by his bed. He looked anxious, but his face was open, “Your magic needs an anchor. And Draco is right—that he even was able to walk into the room is nothing short of advancement. Your instincts, at least, recognize your compatibility.” There was that word again. The one Harry had written in the margins of his own research that he thought would be the answer to his problem.

“And if Malfoy uses his Alpha abilities to control Harry?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t think he would be able to, even with the bond.” Blaise said, “Harry is still stronger than Draco, magically speaking, but even then—Omega instincts are to fight for the good of the family in the bond. I believe society paints Omegas to be a passive role, so most of them fulfil as they are culturally influenced to do. Their instincts follow the society pressure and submit to an Alpha. Not saying it happens all the time.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Ron asked.

“I can throw off an _Imperius._ ” Harry said, “I think I’ll be alright. And if not, I’ll be alright enough time to tell you.”

“And I’ll be working with you both, so I will also be able to know.” Zabini said confidently, “This type of bond can’t change emotions or feelings towards another person, so this bond will not manipulate you into doing anything you do not want. An obsessively submissive Omega has been made popular by folklore, but in practice I have never seen it—or seen a factually documented case of one. Most of it is just stories—like an obsessive fantasy.”

Hermione bit her lip, “Harry?”

“Why are you doing this Malfoy?” Harry asked with a sigh, looking down at his gross mint green blanket. He bunched up his hands in the weave of the blanket before lying it flat again.

“Multiple reasons. The first being that I owe you Potter for saving my life in the Room of Requirement. And second that if the roles were reversed, I believe you would help me.”

Harry scowled, then looked up at him, “No personal gain at all? I don’t believe it.” Malfoy looked a bit tired himself. His blonde hair was buzzed short, only a bit of growth on top that was pushed back by fingers, not product. He was wearing all black robes, with not even a bit of white, silver or any other color to highlight his features.

Malfoy flashed a glance at Hermione and Ron, folding his hands up like he was trying to keep himself from speaking. Zabini nudged his arm, “My parents want me to marry a pureblood witch—it was in the Prophet. They’re in negotiations with Astoria and I’m to be married by Christmas.”

“Oh, so you’re _engaged?_ ” Ron asked.

“This would null that agreement.” Zabini jumped in quickly, so Ron relaxed.

Malfoy rearranged his hands and Harry realized it was a nervous tick, “I had no intention of marrying her, but my father out voted me on the manner. He said it was time to make an heir. I have very little choice.” He pulled a bit on his sleeve.

“Don’t want the commitment?” Hermione asked.

“I’m gay.” Malfoy’s jaw stuck out a bit as he crossed his arms. He seemed to remember himself and let them drop as if forcing himself to look at ease with the idea.

“So just any guy will do?” Harry asked, in disbelief.

“No—the contract with Astoria forbids extramarital affairs, and is contingent on having an heir.”

“So you’d have to fuck her and wouldn’t be able to have a lover.” Hermione surmises.

“Father disapproves.”

Ron snorted, sitting down with a huff, “Course he does, evil bastard.”

“Do _not_ talk about my father.” Malfoy snapped, and Hermione held up her hands in a peace offering—giving the eye to Ron.

“Can we discus for a moment?” Hermione asked them both.

“Of course, we will wait outside.” Zabini stood up, followed by Malfoy who walked out of the room. Hermione locked the door and cast a silencing charm.

“What do you think?” She asked.

“I think he is my only option.” Harry said, feeling like his body was on fire. It almost itched and he wanted to come out of his skin. It was an out of body experience to say the words ‘Malfoy is my only option’. Out of all the wizards in England, how was it that the prick he knew was one of the only people that could help him?

“At least we know what he’s done.” Hermione said with a sigh. At Ron’s bewildered look she added, “Not that necessarily matters, but I’m just saying. There is something to be said about the argument that at least you know his skeletons. You could be tied to someone who is horrible and not know.”

“Oh so it’s better to _know_ he’s a monster?” Ron asked.

“He’s not a monster.” Harry let his eyes close, “He’s a self-centered prick, but he’s not a monster. And he makes donations and helps out at the Restoration Project.” That was Harry’s side project, he helped run a charity to restore the bits of the magical world that had been torn apart by the war. “I usually set up times where he is helping when I’m not there.”

“Well there is something to be said for that.” Hermione frowned, “He made an apology to me several years ago.”

“ _What?_ ” Ron looked abashed, “You never said a thing.”

“No, I didn’t want to. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I was shopping at his store and he sort of apologized—it was probably one of the weirdest apologies I have ever received—and that includes the one with the deluminator, face it Ron that was a weird apology.”

Ron flushed a bit more then turned to Harry, “I know you’re tired of all this mate, you tell us what you want to do and we’ll support you—and the ferret if it comes to that.”

Harry’s stomach was tied in knots, but he knew what he was going to do as soon as Malfoy was able to walk through the door, “I’m going to go through with it.” He wanted to _live_. The consequences he would deal with later.

“I thought you might.” Ron said with a sigh, “We love you though, you know—no matter what.”

Harry suddenly had tears in his eyes, “I know—fuck if you’ve put up with me for this long.”

“Let’s all agree no more drama after this.” Hermione said with a laugh, a few tears coming down her face as she leaned in and hugged Harry—but not too tightly because he was known to feel sick after those. She kissed his forehead, “I think this is the right choice out of a bin of messed up choices.”

“A slogan to my biography if I’d ever write one.” Harry quipped, making them both laugh.

“I’m glad you haven’t lost your humor.” Ron squeezed his shoulder.

“Should we bring them back in?” Hermione asked. Harry nodded before leaning over to get sick again. His body trembled with the effort and Ron rubbed his back.

“About time you had another one of these anyway.” Hermione said, giving him another nutrition potion. His sides hurt from the effort his body had put in, his stomach felt like there was a pinch in it. Hermione helped clean up his face, pressing a towel to his forehead as he lay back down.

“Now you can bring him in.” Harry said. Ron opened the door, ushering them in. Harry had his eyes closed as Hermione ran his fingers through his hair, the other one still pressing the towel to his forehead, “What’s the plan then?” Harry asked. It was a bit easier to say when he didn’t have to look at Malfoy while he said it.

“You will have to copulate multiple times to get well enough to initiate a full bond.” Zabini stated. Harry was weirdly grateful for Zabini’s clinical words. It made it sound less personal, and Harry didn’t really want to face the reality of his choice quite yet. “I’ll have a stock pile of Vitality potions and Nutrition potions for you, plus a regimented diet of food until you are feeling well enough. Depending on how well that goes, I would assume it might take a few days.”

“Sort of like a heat.” Hermione surmised.

“A fucked up one.” Harry grumbled.

“After the bond is cemented, I want you back in my exam rooms to be looked at. I will be able to discern from there the necessary course of action.”

“Meaning?” Harry asked

“The amount times you will need to see each other in order to keep the bond stable. I assume at first it will be more frequent, tapering off as you grow into your instincts and they stabilize.” Harry’s first _instinct_ was to yell again about this, refuse to do it. Let himself die rather than sleep with Malfoy. He turned and looked at the picture of him and Rose on his nightstand. He wanted to see her grow up. He knew the Weasleys wanted him around.

“Mate?” Ron called to him.

“Yeah.” Harry whispered, not turning from the photograph. Rose was kissing his cheek, and Harry was squeezing her tight in the photograph. It was shortly before everything had happened. He hadn’t seen Rose since he came to St. Mungo’s—he didn’t want her to see him like this.

“We can find another option.” Ron said. It was a wonderful open door if Harry wanted to step through it.

“No.” Harry shook his head, turning to his friends. Hermione had tears running down her face, Ron looked just as upset, “Come on guys, I’m not dying.” But even his own voice didn’t sound so strong. Hermione hugged him, forgetting not to hug him too tightly. Harry managed to push her away before throwing up. His sides felt like a blade was being plunged between his ribs. Hermione was apologizing, but Harry just waved her off.

“You hurt him, I’ll kill you. I swear I will.” Ron growled at Malfoy. He looked pale, like he was terrified of someone throwing up.

“I get it Weasel, go back to your den.” Malfoy snapped.

“He’s _trying_ to say that he will take care of Harry.” Zabini said softly.

“I’ll take him back home—there’s no reason to do this here.” Malfoy stated.

Harry shook his head violently, leaning over to throw up again, “I’m not going to the Manor.”

“I live in a flat above my shop.” Harry gripped the edge of the bucket, dry heaving nothing into the bin, “Salazar.”

“Come on, I have to give you a few things before you go to take care of him.” Zabini said, bringing him over to the potions cabinet. Harry closed his eyes, leaning back on the bed. His stomach felt at least a bit more settled after that.

“Want to try a vitality potion?” Ron asked, Hermione was running her fingers over his head again.

“Just a bit.” Harry whispered, his throat ached. His body hurt just about everywhere. When he found himself struggling to sit up to sip the potion, Hermione conjured a spoon to feed it to him.

“This is how I get Rose to eat my cooking.” Hermione confessed with a blush and a small smile. It made Harry laugh instead of getting embarrassed. He was able to have a few sips, a nutrition potion added in a bit as well to help him feel full.

“Potter.” Malfoy said his name and Harry wanted to refuse to do this again.

“Come back to us better, ok?” Hermione asked, cupping his cheek and giving a kiss on his forehead.

“Send a patronus if you need us, but we still expect regular updates.” Ron added, glaring at Malfoy.

“Ok.” Harry nodded.

“You’re going to take a portkey to his place.” Zabini said, charming one of the empty vitality potion bottles to a portkey, “You’ll most likely get sick when you arrive there.”

“Can’t I use a wheel chair or something to get out of here?”

“The press is camped out.” Ron reminded him.

“Fucking press.” Harry scowled.

“Floo powder I don’t trust for you to go by yourself.” Zabini said, “Portkey is the only way.”

“Fine.” Harry grumbled, not looking to throwing up as soon as he got alone with Malfoy. Malfoy was carrying a small bag, assumedly full of potions.

“We expect to hear from you soon.” Hermione said, this time leveling her own glare at Malfoy.

“I’ll take care of him.” Malfoy said through gritted teeth.

“Portkey leaves in three, two—” Harry felt the pull of his navel and St Mungo’s disappeared.

He landed with a thud on soft carpet. Something was thrust in front of him immediately as he threw up into it.

“Merlin’s beard Potter.” Malfoy kept a hand on his shoulder and his voice sounded somewhat softer than it did at the hospital. Harry lay back when he was done, staring at the ceiling. It smelled nice in the flat, a bit like tea, pie and books. For whatever reason, it made something in him soften as well. He wasn’t as angry as he was in the hospital.

“Smells nice.” Harry said sleepily. Strong hands slid under him, carrying him. Harry was a bit too tired to open his eyes, so he tried not to think about Malfoy carrying him. He was put down on a bed.

“I’m an alpha, of course my apartment smells nice to you.” Malfoy said. Perhaps there was something to that too—that their instincts were pulling them together.

“Smells like tea—I miss tea.” Harry confessed.

“Potter—I am very sorry it has come to this.” Malfoy’s voice was tense, “I know consenting to sex in this state is nearly impossible but—

“I am consenting Malfoy. I know it’s my way of survival.”

“I just don’t want to add rapist to your grievances against me.” Harry opened his eyes at that statement. Malfoy was sitting on the bed, looking out of the big windows.

“I won’t Malfoy.” Harry said sincerely.

“Should probably start calling me Draco.” Malfoy said, looking at his hands in his lap and his cheeks flushed a bit.

“And you call me something else other than Scarhead?” Harry teased, which had the success of Malfoy smiling a bit and looking over at him.

“Of course I will Harry.” Malfoy— _Draco—_ frowned, “Sounds weird. Doesn’t sound like a real name.”

“Out of the two of us, I think you have name that doesn’t sound real _Draco_.” Harry grinned.

“We’re going to be bonded for the foreseeable future and staying here for a few days, please feel free to ask for anything—including tea.” Malfoy turned to Harry. His face looked strained and a bit stressed. Harry recognized the resigned look from years ago—when Malfoy was going to do something he really didn’t want to do. And as much as he knew this process had sucked for himself, Malfoy was also agreeing to this bond that would tie them together.

“Thank you for doing this.” Harry said. Malfoy didn’t want to do this either. It wasn’t about getting something to lord over Harry—at least at the moment. It was about freedom for him.

“You saved my life.” He ran his fingers through his hair, “And if my parents ask—you invoked my debt for your life.” His face was a bit stern.

“If your parents ever talk to me, then I will assure them.” Harry promised, “I grabbed you from a fire pit—this is considerably different.” Harry said.

Malfoy nodded, turning back out to look out the window. His body was held so stiffly Harry thought he’d shatter like glass. And maybe he would, considering what he had to do. Harry sat up as much as he was able and touched Draco’s hand. Harry recognized that Malfoy wasn’t going to start this process, couldn’t get himself to do it. Draco winced when Harry touched his arm, “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to!” Draco stated furiously, then frowned, “That sounds odd—I just—I _do_ want to help. I can help you and this means I don’t have to marry Astoria. _Circe_ , I thought after the Dark Lord fell all this _bullshit_ would stop. I don’t know why I did but.” He huffed, running his fingers through his hair again, “And I—” He fidgeted a bit, “I don’t hate you. Our relationship hasn’t been anything other than contentious in the past, but I don’t hate you. I thought I did—but I found out there are things I hate more—fucking pussy, for one.” The comment was enough to startle a chortle out of Harry.

“I don’t hate you either.” Harry confessed, it was the truth, “I think you can be selfish and stuck up—I think you were spoiled, which is no fault of your own. I think you want to be a great and powerful wizard.”

“I wanted that.” Draco said, “I don’t anymore.” It was quiet for a moment, Harry’s stomach was starting to flare up again.

“Bucket?” Harry asked, ruining Malfoy’s contemplative silence. He just managed to get the bucket beneath him before he got sick again. Harry threw up again so hard it felt like his eyes were coming out of his head. The sick was vanished and Harry lied back down, his body shaking, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to get it up like this.” Malfoy cast a few freshening charms, his mouth tasted a bit like mint, which was much better than vomit.

“Blaise told me you wouldn’t—said you were nutritionally depleted and it might take a few rounds.”

“Great.” Harry frowned.

“So just lie back and think of England or something Gryffindors do.” It was said teasingly, but Harry could hear the strain. Harry reached out and took Draco’s hand. _Draco_. Maybe it would be easier to think of him that way because _Malfoy_ was a different person. He was one that made his life a living hell—this _Draco_ was offering him a life line.

“I’m sure you’re very good in bed, I wouldn’t take it personally if my cock just lays there—I’m pretty upset with all of it down there at the moment as well.” Harry managed to joke and Draco snorted.

“May I kiss you?” Draco asked.

“Yes.” Harry answered. Draco cupped his cheek, his grey eyes piercing into Harry like they always had. They had never been able to keep secrets from each other, and maybe that was finally a good thing. The kiss was gentle, he felt so warm. The heat radiated through him, and it made Harry’s toes curl. It was like finally getting that cup of tea that he had longed for. It made him want _more._ Which was strange to feel—to want this from Malfoy. But at this point he didn’t care too much, he wanted to feel better more than he cared about _how._ His body was too frail to be of much help, but he did unbutton Malfoy’s shirt. The warmth radiated off of him and Harry found himself wanting to curl up next to it. He hadn’t realized how cold he felt before.

Harry pushed the shirt off, feeling scar tissue on his fingers. He sat back and saw huge scars crisscrossed over Draco’s body, “Is this—is this because of me?” Harry asked, horrified.

“No—no.” Draco said instantly, “This is—this is from something else.” He answered.

“I’m sorry for carving you up.” Harry whispered, not believing his vague answer. Harry led his fingers down some of the scars.

“This wasn’t from you—but I forgive you for that too. I know you didn’t know the spell, plus I was trying to use an Unforgivable.”

“You would have had to mean it.” Harry said softly.

“I did. You were intolerable.” Draco had a small smile on his lips and Harry laughed. He found himself relaxing into the next kiss. Hesitant hands ran up his sides, slipping underneath the hospital top.

“You have to untie it.” Harry said, reaching to untie the one at the nape of his neck.

“Not my first hospital gown.” Draco’s voice was low and teasing, Harry wasn’t quite sure how to handle it.

“Yes, I remember you spending days in the hospital wing after the hippogriff attack.” Harry didn’t know if he went too far as his top came off. He was surprised when Draco barked a laugh.

“I endured a very horrible shirt to make a point.” Draco said proudly, kissing down Harry’s neck. The spot right behind his ear felt particularly sensitive and Harry found himself arching his neck for more, “It’s your omega instincts that make this spot feel so good.” Draco said as he pressed his lips against the small spot behind Harry’s ear.

“It-it is?” Harry stuttered, feeling like fire was pulsing down his body.

“There are a few spots that are more sensitive on an Omega.” Draco told him, nearly sounding clinical. His hands dropped to Harry’s waist and Harry couldn’t help but grab his wrist tightly. Draco moved back a bit with a frown, “Did you change your mind—

“No just—I’m—I—er—I’m wearing a diaper.” Harry wanted to _avada_ himself. The embarrassment was crushing. It felt like his skin was coming inside out.

“Ok.” Draco said calmly. Harry looked away as Draco pulled down his pajama pants and diaper. He closed his eyes as Draco took them off completely and put them to the side, “No Hungarian horntail tattoo?” Draco asked.

Harry snorted a laugh before he could help it, a few tears squeezing out as he did, “Fuck you.”

“I’ll admit I’m a bit disappointed.” Draco smiled down at him.

“I’ve shown you mine.” Harry motioned at Malfoy’s slacks that were still buttoned.

“Didn’t want to make you intimidated.” Malfoy said with a smirk, but it only made Harry laugh as he relaxed just a bit more. He unbuckled and unbuttoned his slacks, divesting of his pants as well with one fell swoop. As much as Harry thought to look down, he was much more captivated by Draco’s neck and the way it moved. His collarbones rotated as he tossed his pants to the side and Harry wanted to bite them, _lick them_. He climbed up between Harry’s legs, the tension building in Harry as he did it, “You—you’ve slept with a man before, right?” Draco asked. His eyes went straight to Harry’s. They saw _him_ , not his condition or his current circumstance.

“Yes.” Harry answered.

“Good, didn’t want to deal with a virgin.” Draco smirked a bit, kissing Harry’s lips again. Harry couldn’t help but give it back as much as he got it. He gave into the feeling of running his fingers down Malfoy’s collarbone. He could feel Malfoy hard against his thigh. When Draco pulled away, Harry had to fight back the whimper and his arm shot out without his consent to keep Malfoy close.

“Sorry.” Harry let go.

“It’s alright. Your Omega instincts—you’ll start to recognize them—letting them out will be better for you.” Draco’s voice sounded husky as he sat back between his legs.

“Is that why I want to bite your collarbone?” Harry asked.

“Yes.” Draco answered as he ran two fingers behind Harry’s balls. Harry nearly came out of his skin. It felt like a just healed over wound—it nearly hurt, “Merlin’s beard.”

“Sorry.” Harry turned bright red, he knew he was slick down there. He should have told Malfoy to put a towel down, “Just sensitive.”

Draco’s next touch was lighter than his first. It was just light touches to the outside of his rim, moving closer and then further away. His arse started to ache anytime Malfoy moved his fingers away. His entire body was starting to feel a bit tingly, like a limb that had been asleep and was waking up. It _hurt_ , but it was the kind you knew you had to work through to feel better.

“In— _please_.” Harry managed to grit his teeth into saying it.

“You sure?” Draco looked concerned.

“I—yes—I’m sure.” Harry was grateful Draco went slow as he moved his fingers into Harry. His fingers gripped Malfoy’s arms so tightly he was sure to have marks. Harry made a choked groan.

“That sounded like it was painful.” Draco was frowning.

“It’s just sensitive—like when you’ve had to pee really bad for a long time and it sort of hurts to go at first.” Harry explained.

“I’m taking your word for it.” Malfoy stated, but moved his fingers. Harry clenched his jaw to keep from crying out, “You’re tense.” Draco told him.

“I _know_.” Harry ground back. Draco slipped his fingers out and Harry couldn’t keep back the gasp of pain at being empty, “Malfoy.”

“Alpha.” Malfoy was leaning over him, kissing right behind his ear. Harry took a sharp inhale and let out a short breath. Fuck he smelled so good, “Say it.” The voice growled in his ear, licking that spot again that made Harry’s whole body feel it up.

“Alpha.” Harry whimpered. Those fingers were back, rubbing his hole again. This time it felt a bit like the spot behind his ear did. He couldn’t help his sharp gasp and wanting to arch his neck, but he contained that feeling.

“ _Omega_.” Malfoy _purred_ it in his opposite ear and Harry felt the gush of wetness. He turned bright red, he wanted to push Malfoy off of him immediately and hide somewhere far away from everyone, “I got you Harry. There’s no need to be embarrassed.” Draco pulled back and looked down at Harry, “Your instincts are responding to me as an Alpha. They want us to come together, to put everything else on hold. Don’t hold back. It will help make you feel better.” His face was open and honest, “Say Alpha again.”

“Alpha.” Harry whispered it and this time his body felt like fire. He wanted to _beg_ to be filled. _Beg_ to be fucked. The feeling was as terrifying as it was comforting. This was going to work—but _Malfoy._

“Omega.” Draco answered as he pushed two fingers inside Harry. They felt like heaven now, eased in and out. But it isn’t what he _needed_ , “I’m going to take care of you Omega. I promise.” Malfoy’s voice fell to the background as Harry focused on the feelings pulsing through him. His body felt cold and hot all at the same time. He wasn’t hard because he was damned near exhausted, but it felt like he was.

“ _Fuck me_.” Harry hissed before he could help it. The words pouring out of his mouth felt even better.

“I will Omega.” His voice made Harry want to preen. Harry gripped Malfoy’s left arm as tightly as he could, widening his legs more to encourage him, “You smell delicious.” Draco’s nose ran along Harry’s jaw line and Harry felt more wetness gushing out.

“ _Malfoy_.” Harry didn’t want to resort to begging. His mind felt a bit like scrambled eggs, but he still was holding on enough.

“Alpha.” Malfoy corrected him.

“Alpha!” Harry snapped the correction and his body felt like it was on fire. If Malfoy didn’t put his cock in him in two seconds, Harry would figure out how to make it happen. Turned out Harry didn’t have to come up with a plan, Draco’s cock pushed at his entrance. Harry lifted his hips up as much as he was able. It took forever for him to slide in completely. It felt like a stretch that ached.

“I’m in.” Malfoy finally said. Harry leaned up and captured Draco’s lips. The first rock, Harry wasn’t able to hold back the whimper of pain, “I’ve got you Omega.” Malfoy said again, “Let go. I got you. I promise. You can trust me.” He whispered the promises with another thrust. This time Harry couldn’t help but arch his neck a bit, “That’s it. Merlin you feel so good. You can do it Harry. Let go.” Another thrust and this time his body felt nothing but pleasure. The gasp was garbled out, Harry grabbing onto Draco with both hands. He wanted to not feel the burning shame, but he couldn’t help it.

“I-I- _fuck”_ Harry wanted to arch his neck even more. He wanted to be pounded into and forget his own name. But he recognized on some level this was still _Malfoy_.

“Harry.” Draco had wrapped his arms beneath Harry’s back, pulling him in. His forehead was against Harry’s when he rocked into him again, “Let go Harry. I promise I will take care of you.” There was another choked sound that came from Harry as he tried to fight his instincts again, “Omega. You can trust me. I swear to it.” The next thrust was a bit more forceful, it had Harry arching his neck.

“More.” Harry demanded, “Alpha.” His voice came out in a whine between clenched teeth, like his body couldn’t decide if he wanted to say it or not, as Draco continue to thrust into him. His body felt like it was caving in on itself and expanding all at the same time. Tendrils of a bond were tentatively reached out, Harry could feel the magic weaving around them. Draco placing kisses on his neck drove him insane. They burned, like he would remember forever where each one was placed. When Draco came, he buried his teeth in Harry’s shoulder. The pain was nothing compare to the ease he felt in his soul. It was like something had clicked into place.

Draco kissed up his neck, reaching with his other hand for the bedside table. He placed a kiss on Harry’s lips before pulling out. Harry cringed at the amount of liquid he felt leave him. A strong cleaning charm was cast over both of them, and Harry was grateful for it. It didn’t clean up as well as doing it by hand, but it was certainly enough so that Draco didn’t have to clean Harry off.

“Fucking hell.” Draco said as he collapsed to the side. Harry felt his eyes closing. The instincts that were surging just a moment before were falling rapidly. 

“You didn’t knot me.”

“Blaise said to wait until you had gotten stronger.”

“The bond started to form, I can see it.” Harry told him.

“That’s good.”

“It’s about as strong as tissue paper, but yeah.”

“Your instincts have to get stronger to solidify it.”

“You know an awful lot about this for not being a healer.” Harry turned to look at him. Draco was staring up at the ceiling.

“I am a healer.”

“But you—you don’t work at St. Mungo’s.”

“Stunningly observant.” Malfoy rolled over to look at him.

“Just wondering why.” Harry said through grit teeth.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Malfoy ran his fingers through his hair, he looked down at the mattress, “I don’t like talking about it.”

“Ok.” Harry frowned, but his eyes were fluttering shut on their own accord, “Gunna take a nap.” He didn’t hear the answer before he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god. Don't throw things at me. 
> 
> WARNING/SPOILER:   
> This chapter could possibly contain mildly dubious consent only because Harry has to mate with someone. He chooses to have sex with Draco, in as much as he has a choice. And the characters talk about it. 
> 
> It will come out later that their instincts are making them be nice to each other and are drawing them together. I did try to hint at that in the chapter.


	3. I thought I was Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Harry navigate new bonds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was not expecting your responses! Thank you so much for reading :)

His eyes fluttered open, it was the most well rested felt since this whole thing had started. His bones still felt tired, but he didn’t feel like shit anymore.

“How are you feeling?” Malfoy’s voice dragged him a bit more from his sleep. His arm was draped over Malfoy’s pajama clad thighs. He had a scroll open and glasses on.

“You wear glasses?” Harry asked.

Malfoy pulled the small black framed glasses off his face with a sigh, putting the parchment to the side, “Yes. For reading. How are you feeling?”

“Better rested.”

“Then let’s get clean and then maybe something to eat.” The slick wasn’t as bad as it normally was, but it still didn’t feel comfortable.

“Yeah—maybe food first. I’m actually feeling hungry.” Harry rolled onto his back.

“That’s a good sign. I’ll talk to Lyn, then you can come out to the kitchen with pants on.”

“Lyn?”

“House elf.” Draco explained as he rolled out of bed. He grabbed a few things from the bag that Blaise had given him before they left the hospital. He placed the stack on the bed by Harry’s crossed legs. Harry waited until Malfoy left the room to put on the clothes laid out for him. An itchy feeling started in his stomach as soon as Draco walked out, but Harry didn’t want to think about it too much. He tried not to get too embarrassed that there were no boxers laid out, only a diaper. He pulled on one of his own white t-shirts and pajama bottoms—so it was nice not to wear hospital clothes anymore.

Walking out to the kitchen was a bit difficult. His legs were a bit too wobbly and everything felt like it might collapse. He moved slowly down the hall, using the wall as support. The flat smelled like chicken noodle soup—which would be perfect.

“Mr. Harry Potter sirs! You should not be walking!” Lyn the house elf had a neon pink dress on. A large bow tied her ears back, assumedly to keep them out of the way.

“I’m alright Lyn.” Harry said, moving from the wall to the chair for something to grab on to, “I probably should be walking anyway.”

Malfoy was frowning at him, “You should have let me know—I can help.”

“No.” Harry plopped down in the chair a bit exhausted, “No. Let me keep some tatters of pride.”

“Potter, I really think you’re being too light on yourself. I saw your hair fourth year, there’s no way you had any pride to have that haircut.” Harry laughed, relaxing even more. Draco hopped up and wrapped a blanket around Harry’s shoulders. A bowl of soup was laid out in front of him as well as a Vitality potion.

“Feels weird to be hungry.” Harry said, taking a small sip of soup, “This is good.”

“Thank you.” Draco replied.

“I—I thought Lyn made the soup.”

“No—I tell Master Draco I can cook, but he wants to do it all by himself. Sometimes he lets me help.” Lyn said proudly.

“I made this soup a few days ago, she helped heat it up for you.” Draco clarified.

“Oh.” Harry said. He wanted to ask when Draco learned to cook, but figured it probably wasn’t the best question to ask if he wanted to keep the peace.

“Lyn taught me how to cook when I first moved out after Hogwarts. I was surviving on stolen food from the Manor.” Draco admitted.

“Sirs should not be being a thief, but Lyn kept food aside for Master Draco.” Lyn smiled brightly.

“Worked out ok when I stole you.” Draco said and Lyn laughed before skipping off, “She’s a free elf before you get all Gryffindor on me. Stole that idea from you actually” He smirked, “I had my Dad give her a tea towel on accident.”

Harry laughed, “I’m glad I could be used as inspiration.”

“My father ranted that story a few too many times not to make it start looking like a good idea.” Harry had a few more nibbles of soup. It was hot, but the flavor profile was wonderful.

“I miss food.” Harry sighed as he ate.

“How long have you been like this?”

Harry thought back, “Three and a half weeks now—Merlin’s beard I can’t believe it’s been that long.”

“Missing work?”

“I had ‘Mione helping me out in the beginning, but then I took a leave of absence. I run my own casework, so the only person I really hurt is myself. And my clients—but they seem patient enough.”

“I was surprised with your line of work.” Harry’s first instinct was to scowl, of course Malfoy was surprised. But then of course—no one had really expected him to be a solicitor. Everyone thought he was an action first type of person, going to be an auror. He disappointed many people with his line of work, but he couldn’t regret it.

“You like everyone else. I like it though. I get to help people.”

“Your last class action lawsuit was in every paper I saw.” His last class action lawsuit had been against the Ministry for discriminating against werewolves, “And I’m sure a tidy sum at the end of it.”

“That’s not why I did it—

“I didn’t think that.” Malfoy said evenly.

Harry let out a sigh, his stomach feeling a bit wonky again so he leaned back, “I like helping people. Sometimes that means I get money for it. I try to give back.”

“I do the same.” Draco ate more of his soup.

“I might take another nap.” Harry got up, not feeling to great.

“Want me to take you back?”

“No. It’s not far. I got it.” Harry waved him off quickly. His body was feeling too hot as he gripped the wall. He focused on breathing slowly, trying not to throw up in the hallway. Every step was excruciatingly long, but he didn’t want to fall over and vomit at the same time. He probably should have gotten help, but he didn’t want to depend on Malfoy more than what he already was. He pushed open the bathroom door and stared at the tile, willing himself not to throw up so close to the toilet.

Harry gripped the wall as he finally leaned over the toilet and threw up everything he had just eaten. He hated feeling this gross, his headache coming back as he leaned against the toilet bowl, collapsing to his knees. He heard noises close to the bathroom and hoped Malfoy wasn’t close by as he threw up again. Harry heaved a few times. He flushed, laying down on the cool tile.

“You’re not dead are you?” Malfoy called from the door.

“No.” Harry sat up against the wall, “I just didn’t think this would happen again.”

“I know my cock is pretty magical, but one fuck isn’t going to fix everything.” Harry laughed in surprise, opening his eyes. Malfoy didn’t look at him with pity or disgust. He had a smirk on his face about his own joke. The teasing instead of inspiring hate actually made Harry feel much better. Draco didn’t look down at him in pity and stop bantering in order to protect him.

“Come on, I have a bath going. It will help the headache.” Draco held out a hand. Harry took it and used it a bit too much to get up. He let go as soon as he was standing, going through the doorway into the main bathroom. In his haste to get to the toilet, he missed the massive bathtub against the wall, and the equally as expansive shower. The tub was filling up with water, nearly to the top. Malfoy stripped, climbing into the tub with little effort. He hissed, the water clearly hot with the amount of steam rolling off of it. Harry turned to the rest of the bathroom to see the counters and froze at the sight.

The mirror couldn’t possibly be correct.

The man in the reflection looked emaciated. His cheeks were hallowed and his eyes blood shot. His rib cage had bruises. He looked horrible. “Potter.” Malfoy called in the distance. Harry didn’t pay attention as he gently touched one of the bruises on his ribs. Was that from throwing up so hard? It certainly was why his eyes looked too large for his face and blood shot. He looked like a skeleton.

“Harry.” Malfoy called again, so he turned to him.

“I look like an inferi.” Harry stated.

“Potter don’t be so harsh on yourself.” Draco was looking at him through the mirror, “You already look loads better.”

“How did you fuck me?” Harry asked bewildered. How could he look so altered in such a short amount of time?

Draco full on belly laughed, “Get in the tub Potter.” Harry turned toward the tub, he was pointing at the spot right in front of him. Harry moved slowly, putting one foot in carefully and then swinging over the opposite, “Nah—come on. Sit in front of me. Then we can fuck before we get out.”

Harry nodded, sitting in the spot between Draco’s legs. It took him a moment to relax, leaning back against Draco’s chest. The water was a bit too hot for him, but it still felt soothing. His muscles were too tight from throwing up, and others felt sore from his brief walk. The arm with the Dark Mark on it was lying on the side of the tub. It was twisted and a bit horrible looking.

“Tried to burn it off—it didn’t work.” Draco must have caught him staring.

“Fucking hell, looks painful.” Harry poked it a bit.

“Happened years ago.” Draco sounded relaxed, like he didn’t care at all about it. He pressed his nose on that spot behind Harry’s ear again and it felt like he was going to turn into a puddle. His right arm wrapped around Harry’s waist and pulled him tight. Harry’s head dipped back onto Malfoy’s shoulder before he could help it. Draco’s right hand moved down his stomach and slipped between his legs. Harry widened his legs, making it easier for Draco to touch him. He felt a bit too hot with the steam, his skin on fire, “Omega.” Draco purred behind him. Harry’s body pulsed a bit as Draco rubbed his fingers on his rim.

“Why does hearing that sound so good?” Harry asked with a groan.

“Encouraging your instincts.” Draco explained, “The more we can get them to come out—the more you accept them—the better you will feel.” Draco slipped his fingers inside and it didn’t ache as much as the first time. Harry felt stretched and open.

“How long ago did we fuck?” Harry asked as Draco kissed down his neck. His toes curled with pleasure and his breathing got quicker.

“Few hours.”

“I’m still loose.”

“You’re an omega.” Draco said as an explanation, slipping his fingers inside. Harry gripped the edge of the tub to keep back his gasp of pleasure. His legs were pressed to the side of the tub, as wide as they could go. Draco had a firm grasp on Harry’s middle, pulling him tightly to his chest, “Getting hard?”

“N-no.” Harry couldn’t help his gasp of pleasure that time, “But _merlin_ it feels so good.”

“Think you’re ready for my cock?”

“Please.” Harry couldn’t help but ask. It was that much easier this time to slip into the mindset. Maybe it was because he was tired. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to fight it anyway. There was a pop of a bottle. When Draco’s fingers came back, there was lube on them. It must have been lube that could go in the water. Draco rubbed his rim again, pushing his fingers in and out. After a moment, he adjusted his grip. Draco’s cock pushed inside and Harry gripped the side of the tub. His cock twitched a bit when Draco was fully seated.

“That feel good Omega?” Draco’s voice was gravely in Harry’s ear.

“Merlin.” Harry’s cock twitched again. Draco rocked in and out of him easily, “Alpha.” Harry groaned, arching his neck backward. This time when the magic reached out, Harry didn’t question in as much. He just felt. His body still felt warm, but now he thought it might be his omega instincts. He wanted to beg to be taken, but knew his body couldn’t take it at the moment. The bite on his neck this time was on the opposite side.

Draco kept his nose against Harry’s neck as they both came down.

“I almost got hard that time.” Harry confessed. He felt the smile against his neck rather than saw it.

“When I got to the hospital, I had this vision of having to fuck you while you were throwing up.” Harry laughed a bit too hard at the image. Maybe it was why he had looked so horrified at Harry throwing up in the hospital bed.

“Merlin I’m glad that didn’t happen.”

“There’s still time.” Draco’s nose pressed against the spot behind his ear. He adjusted to pull out.

“Wait!” Harry said before he knew what he was saying, “Shit, sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

“Your instincts want my knot.” Draco explained, “I think when I knot you it might throw you into a full heat.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asked.

“You know anything about Omegas?”

“Not really.” Harry said, “I thought it didn’t apply to me. When did you present?”

It was quiet for a moment, “Summer before sixth year.” Draco said.

Harry turned to be able to look at him, “Did that have to do with getting the Mark?”

“Turning seventeen is a coming age tradition now, but for a long time it was when you presented. I was an adult, so I could get the Mark.”

“Christ.” It was a turn toward topics Harry thought might be best to avoid. Their temporary truce would be torn apart, and Harry didn’t want to deal with the consequences of that at the moment.

“Stay here, I’m going to get the shower running—your hair needs it.” Draco smirked a bit, “Can I pull out?” Facing him while he asked made Harry turn bright red, “It’s ok Harry if it’s not.”

“Just a minute.” Harry turned around so he wouldn’t have to look at his facial expressions, laying back on Draco’s shoulder.

“I know it’s easier said than done—but please tell me if you need anything.” Draco murmured into Harry’s shoulder, pulling him tight against his chest.

Harry let out a small breath. He fidgeted a bit with his hands, “I don’t know if I know what I need. When will I go into full heat?” This whole process was new to him. He knew some stories about omegas and he knew people were fascinated by the alpha, beta and omega process, but it was something he never paid attention to. Of course that would come around to bite him.

“You’re getting stronger, I can smell it.” Draco told him, his right arm was still wrapped tightly around Harry’s waist, his thumb rubbing in small circles against his rib. 

“What happens then?” Harry thought his legs looked way more ridiculous than usual. The weight loss made them look like chicken legs. How had he not noticed how ridiculous he looked?

“You’ll be a bit out of it. I doubt it will go very long because your body is so weak. After that you will go into heat every four or five months.”

“And you’ll have to fuck me?” He knew the answer, but he wanted to confirm it anyway. The reality of the commitment to Malfoy wasn’t really sinking in as much as he thought it should. In the hospital, getting better seemed to be so out of reach that he was willing to do anything. But this was a lifetime bond.

“We will have to fuck, yes. There are heat toys to help Omegas go through it alone, but I think for the first two or three years it will be impossible for you not to go through your heat and feel like this again without me.”

“Great.” Harry wanted to sink under the water and drown himself. The reality of _needing_ Malfoy from now on was almost too much to bear. His whole life was going to be this. What if he fell in love? How would that person ever put up with him?

“It’s going to work out Harry.” Draco whispered, like he was trying to convince himself as well.

“You don’t know that.” Harry blinked back emotion, swallowing tightly.

“No, but I’ve learned not to bet against you.” Harry smiled, turning to look at Draco. He looked softer in the dimmed lighting of the bathroom, “We’ll figure out our own normal.”

“Before or after we kill each other?”

“We haven’t managed to do that yet.” Draco said with a smirk, “And now we have less reason to do it.” Harry laughed, leaning forward and kissing Draco before he thought about it. Draco curled his hand up in Harry’s hair, his cock slipping out as he kissed Harry so thoroughly his body felt warm again, “Let me start the shower, ok? Your hair is gross.”

“Ok.” Harry said, feeling a bit floaty as he moved forward so Draco could climb out. He leaned back against the tub, letting his eyes flutter shut. He heard the shower turn on, so he tried to stand up.

“I conjured a chair for you.” Draco said, scooping Harry up as he tried to step out of the tub.

“I’d argue with you but I don’t think I can stand long enough.” Harry confessed. There were two different shower heads, so they each got their own, “This bathroom is massive.”

“It was my splurge. I love baths—showers. It’s how I relax.” Draco told him as he put him down in the chair under the spray This time Harry took the opportunity to look at Draco completely naked as Draco started to shampoo his hair. Harry hadn’t realized how cut he was before this. His cock was one of the largest Harry had seen and it was flaccid. He didn’t remember when he had turned into such cock slut.

“Stop staring.” Draco said, washing off the shampoo.

“Pass me the shampoo.” Harry said, trying to ignore his blush. Draco put some on Harry’s head. Harry just glared at him before working the shampoo through his hair. He finished with conditioner and then cleaned his body as best he could while sitting, “I think I need another nap.”

“Ok, but I’ll wake you up to eat again.” Draco said, turning off the shower. He helped Harry up, made him stand still while he found Harry a towel. They walked together slowly into the bedroom. It was freshly made.

“I should put pants on.” Harry said as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Draco walked to his bag and pulled out a diaper. The pajama bottoms Harry wore earlier were folded up on the end of the bed. He tried not to get too embarrassed when he pulled on his diaper, “Are you—staying here?”

“Yeah, I’m just going to get some work done. Not going anywhere.” Draco promised.

“Wearing glasses again?” Harry teased as he got under the covers.

“Don’t push your luck.” Draco glared. It was a sobering thought even though Harry knew he was kidding.

“I am grateful for this.” Harry said, looking over at Draco who was picking up some scrolls on his desk.

“I told you Harry, I am glad to help.”

“So you don’t have to marry Astoria—you don’t have to be nice to me.”

“No, but I want to—I don’t think it’s worth it anymore.” Draco looked a bit tired again, “trying to get under your skin never worked out for me anyway.”

“Well, you’re still getting under me.” Harry joked and Malfoy laughed.

“Not yet. I think once you’re well enough you can fuck me.” Draco winked and Harry grinned, “Sleep. I’ll make something for dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shortness, I promise the next chapter is larger.


	4. Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco complete the bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so glad you guys are enjoying the story! Thank you for your kind comments. I really can't tell you how much it means to me.

Harry woke up because he was going to puke. Thank Merlin Draco had the foresight to put a bin by the bed. Though there wasn’t anything in his stomach to throw up, he still heaved into the wastebasket. A warm hand was on his shoulder in an instant.

“Potter, I have an idea. Can you trust me?” Draco asked, all Harry could do was nod as he threw up again. Draco seemed to be rummaging around for things and Harry couldn’t really look at him anyway as he threw up. His headache was worse than ever, “Hold out your arm.” Harry looked up at him.

“Is that muggle medicine?”

“Sort of.” Draco answered. He was quick to set up the IV looking contraption.

“Sort of?” Harry asked.

“Get some rest.” Draco told him, “I’ll tell you when you wake up.” Harry felt his eyes flutter shut. His body felt like it was shutting down on its own. He fell asleep to the feeling of Draco running his fingers through his hair. It didn’t feel as good as when Hermione did it because she had long nails, but it still felt relaxing.

“Draco?” Harry called out as he woke up.

“I’m here.” Draco was sitting in a chair. His feet were up on the bed and he was holding the latest Quidditch Monthly.

“I like the article about older Seekers in that one.” Harry said, looking down at his arm. It looked like a needle was in his arm. It was wrapped up a bit to cover the needle, and a plastic tube went up to a baggie, “Are you sure this isn’t muggle medicine?”

“I put a less concentrated form of Vitality Potion and Nutrition potion in the IV bag.” Draco pointed up at the IV bag that was up on a rack, “I told you I was a healer. When I went to school, they wanted me to go to the muggle healing school for classes. They thought I would refuse, but I did it anyway. There’s a lot of stuff that muggles do because they don’t have magic so I learned a lot. Healers don’t have IVs. But if someone is throwing up—like you—the potion doesn’t have enough time to react. Muggles solved that with IVs, but we never did.”

“So this will help me get stronger.”

“Yes. I’ve tested it multiple times—it works. It’s why I ended up quitting St. Mungo’s. They have every right to hate me, but it’s not worth hating my innovations just because they’re mine. They hurt the patient. So I quit, started my apothecary/Dark Art Renovation/Tea room. I like it better anyway.” Harry now understood why Draco didn’t like to talk about why he had quit healing. To put in all the effort for years and to continually be questioned would be tiring. At what point did he decide that it wasn’t worth it?

“I like your shop.” Harry told him, moving focus to the things Malfoy clearly enjoyed.

“I know—and you do know that I work Wednesdays.” Harry blushed. He went into the store when he thought Draco wasn’t there—clearly he was caught—Draco grinned, “I usually do paperwork in the back, so I’m not out helping customers. And why is it OK to see Pansy?” Pansy worked the front desk.

“I think she’s scared of me. I’m always nice to her.” Harry confessed. 

“Of course she is, she thinks you want revenge.”

“I don’t.” Harry said with a frown.

“I know that.” Draco rolled his eyes, “Think you could eat some food?”

“Yeah. I’m hungry.” Harry nodded. Draco held the IV rack and helped Harry move into the kitchen. They made slow progress, with Draco half holding Harry upright. But Draco didn’t offer to carry him, and Harry wanted to get stronger anyway. Maybe it was mental, but he thought he did get there a bit faster than he did earlier. Lyn put down his food in front of him—chicken and rice. Everything had to be bland until he knew he could eat it, but he couldn’t help but longingly stare at Draco’s plate. It had some sort of curry dish on it. There was no way his stomach could handle it at the moment, but he wanted to so badly. This time Harry was more cautious, eating slowly. He couldn’t quite believe when he finished his plate and his stomach didn’t feel even a twinge.

“You still feel ok?” Draco asked.

“I do.” Harry said with a smile, “Maybe I should ask Mione to bring me some of my work.”

Draco shook his head, “No—I’ve got books for you. There are several in my collection about Omegas. You should read up.”

Harry sighed, running his fingers through his hair, “I don’t know anything about myself.”

“Well—I know you’ve had a contraceptive potion already, but you should maintain them.” Draco stated.

Harry flushed, “Yeah.”

“Reading the books might help the bond.”

“Why didn’t you go into the same line of work as Blaise? Since you know so much.” Harry sort of snapped, but he reeled it in with a deep breath.

“I think I learned a lot when I was young.” Draco looked a bit awkward, “My family was obsessed with me becoming an alpha. Being well endowed is an early sign, but it’s not absolute. I read every book I could find to see if I was showing early signs of being an Alpha. Of course I second guessed everything because I knew I wanted it so much. My father would have written me out of the will if I presented as Omega.” He frowned, “It’s an old way of thinking. Omega females are coveted in pureblood families. Omega males are put down.”

“That’s barbaric.”

“Yes.” Draco said emphatically, “It’s absurd. I had an uncle, my dad’s brother, who died due to mysterious circumstances when he was sixteen. I can’t help but think that was why. I grew up terrified I’d be next. It’s why I’ve donated money to Blaise’s research. I want to help him so the wizarding world knows Omegas are no different than Alphas.”

“Better probably—because we can create life.” Harry said with a grin, it was an argument he had seen in the papers recently about Omegas.

Draco laughed, his shoulders relaxing, “One step at a time.” He took a sip of his water, “Your story helps Omegas too. Defeating the most powerful Alpha and wizard in the world? I think it proves Omegas are not weak.”

“Well, you’re easy to reason with—people like your father are probably never going to be convinced.”

Draco frowned, “I hope they will be.” The statement made something burst in Harry’s chest. This was the reason Malfoy had stuck by his Father for so long—he believed in the best. Harry didn’t think his father could ever be reasoned with, but clearly Draco saw a part of him that might be turned. 

“Is your Mum an Omega?”

“No, she’s a beta. Her family was disappointed but she said she likes it better anyway.” Draco ran his fingers through his hair, “I think she was nervous she would be able to be controlled. My father is difficult to disobey on the best of days.”

“Does he approve of your job?”

“Fuck no.” Draco snorted, “I still have access to their vaults because Mother would never let Father kick me out for good, but he makes his displeasure known. It’s why he set me up with Astoria, to try to get me to come back to the Manor.” He shuffled a bit, “What about you—while I’m pouring my heart out—why are you a barrister?”

“The ministry has a lot of fucked up beliefs. I think the best way to overcome them is to know their rules. Plus I got a bit tired of constantly chasing bad guys. The adrenalin rush I get now is when I present my case in court.”

“No significant other in your life? I thought you were going to marry the Weaslette.”

“I thought so too. But she wanted to travel the world as a Quidditch star, and I didn’t want to stop her from living that to the fullest. We’re still good friends, when I see her.” Harry ate the last bit of rice on his plate, “My life is not as exciting as everyone wants it to be.”

“But you still consult with the aurors regularly.”

Harry raised a brow, “I do—but how did you know that?”

Draco shrugged, “Found it out on accident actually. Robards was in the shop with Kingsley. Robards had forgotten what time you were coming in and Kingsley answered.”

“I could have just been stopping in.”

“I thought that too. But with both of them at the same time? And they make it sound like a regular thing.”

Harry shifted a bit and grinned, “You could have been an auror.”

“Not with this shit.” Draco held up his arm, his body was tense. Harry felt like banging his head against the table. How could he have been so _stupid?_ Why didn’t he think about that?

“Right—I know—I just meant it as a complement.”

Draco relaxed, “I’d be terrible anyway. I would find gathering all the evidence tedious.”

Harry snorted, “You’d fit right in—I remind aurors that all the time.”

“You work with them a lot then?”

“Mostly defending a client, actually.” Harry said with a grin.

“So your work with Kingsley and Robards isn’t with the aurors?”

“It is and it isn’t.” Harry wobbled his head. Harry’s barrister work had gotten him a lot of connections. His name got around to a lot of high up people. Most of the time he got owls from them asking legal advice now and again, which Harry was sure to keep tabs of. His past self would have hated it, but he counted on those favors when it came to helping out clients later down the road. Some of politicians Harry had refused to work with, but others had genuinely needed his help. Most of the time with Kingsley and Robards, he was helping them put a case together for more intense Dark Magic offenders, “Mostly on high profile cases I remind them where the rules are.”

“So, your boring solicitor story doesn’t really hold weight to it.”

Harry laughed, “No, I guess not. Still mostly reading and researching.”

“And I can add some reading to your list and you won’t complain.”

“No promises.” Harry said and Draco let out a chuckle this time.

“Your color is starting to improve.”

“No longer look like an inferi?” Harry asked.

“Well, maybe only a little bit.” Draco stood up and grabbed the dishes. Harry watched as he cleaned them with a spell and put them away. He worked slowly, methodically, like he had done it many times. When everything was away, he walked into another room.

Harry didn’t question it much, but Draco came out with three books, “This one is the one nearly every witch or wizard gets when they turn thirteen so they are ready.” He puts down in front of Harry a children’s looking book. _Alpha, Beta, or Omega? Knowing what’s coming as you become a young adult_. There was a picture of a young boy and girl on the front and it was clearly made for someone who is a young teen—not nearly thirty years old.

“You’re a dick.” Harry told him flatly and Malfoy laughed.

“I’m just kidding—that book is rubbish anyway. It’s too vague and relies too much on stereo types. These two are better. This one was written by an omega.” He holds up a book _The Mysteries of the Omega_ , “Title is shit, but it’s very informative. She goes into detail about a lot of personal responses, which I’m not sure are personal to her or to omegas. Not much research is done on omegas—like I said earlier—so it might be crock.”

“But you don’t think it is.” Harry looked at Malfoy.

“No, I think there might be some information that’s personal but there’s never been a wide study done, so I’m not sure how much is personal or not.”

“But you know about the spot here.” Harry touched the spot behind his ear, trying not to blush and completely failing at it. Harry looked down at the book, flipping open the pages to try to feel a bit less awkward.

“That one is well documented.” Draco explained, “Like smell—for both alpha and omegas is extremely important. It’s why you feel relaxed here—not completely, of course, but it smells nice.”

“And I smell nice to you?” Harry asked, still not looking up at him.

“Yes. You smell much better now too than when you first arrived.”

“Well, that’s because I had a bath.” Draco laughed. Harry felt heat beneath his skin, watching Draco’s head tip back and revealing his collar bones.

“We should fuck again while you’re feeling better.” This time heat pulsed through Harry’s body. It curled up deep in his belly and just stayed there.

“Yeah.” Harry managed to say.

“You ok?” Draco asked, frowning a bit.

“Just—I can feel my instincts craving you.” Harry said, blushing scarlet.

“It’s not me, it’s an Alpha.” Draco said, “Your body is making it easier for you to accept it by wanting an Alpha.”

“But you’re the Alpha sitting here, so I crave _you_.” Harry argued, “Do Alpha’s ever crave omegas?”

“Not in the same way.” Draco helped Harry get up and he leaned on him a bit to get him back to the bedroom. They made slow progress, “I think when an Alpha smells an omega in heat, they become difficult to resist. But I think that is more of a balance thing—the omega and alpha crave each other.”

“So you crave me?” Harry couldn’t quite believe he was asking, but he wanted to know.

“Yes. I can smell you, I want to fuck you—or be fucked by you since I’m not particular.” Draco said with a lofty grin.

“But you have to fuck me.”

“Only because you’re sick now. Once the bond settles in and we stabilize your hormones, you can fuck me if you’d like. I would like us to get to a point where we enjoy the bond—so it’s not a burden.” The last sentence was a bit quiet, but it got to the core of the ache in his chest. He let himself reach out to hope that this wasn’t a horrible situation. Sure he would still be tied to Malfoy for the rest of his life, but it wasn’t like he was tied to Voldemort—or Greyback—or really anyone who didn’t know him well. They _might_ be able to figure this out.

“Do you ever think we’ll live normal lives?”

“Normal is over rated Potter.” Draco smirked, “Plus you’re one of the oddest people I’ve met, I doubt you’d ever be normal.”

Harry flushed but smiled, “I’ll have you know I live a very boring life as a solicitor.”

“Sounds like it.” Draco said sarcastically, easing Harry down on his bed. The sheets had been changed again and the room cleaned up a bit. It was a small sized room, but it had everything in it Harry wanted out of a room. There was a huge set of windows letting in natural light, it was cozy. Harry thought Malfoy might have a too posh bedroom, but it felt relaxing. He had a natural wood headboard and a fluffy grey comforter that was at the bottom of the bed in case he got cold. The quilt was cream colored, as were the sheets.

“I like your room—your flat actually.”

“Thank you.” Draco said, “Where is your flat?”

“I live in Grimmauld Place.” Harry said. He had plans to move out, they just hadn’t happened yet. Every year he had made it his goal to move out by the end of it, but three years running it hadn’t worked out. He looked for places, but nothing seemed to jump out at him as worth leaving. It was still so dark and dreary at home, but it was better than the flats he looked at. Hermione was always nagging at him to find a better realtor, but Harry didn’t want to put the effort in.

Draco scrunched his nose up, “I don’t remember that place well, but Mother hated it.”

“I removed the house elf heads from the wall, so it’s not as horrible as when she lived there.”

“House elf heads?” Draco stared at him, “You can’t be serious?”

“It’s not a pureblood tradition to put house elf heads on the wall?”

“No!” Draco looked scandalized.

“Oh, well, it was in the Black family. Kreacher used to hope for it all the time, but I think he’s gotten over it now. But I wouldn’t really know since he stays at Hogwarts.” Harry moved a bit, looking up at his IV.

“You feel ok?”

“Yeah—not one hundred percent yet, but definitely feeling more like myself. Which is kind of surprising—I thought I’d be—

“A horny omega that’s begging to be fucked all the time?” Draco finished the sentence for him, shaking his head, “This sort of thought process is why a lot of omegas do not disclose their status if they can help it.”

“Well, maybe not out of my mind. But I feel like myself. I just expected—I don’t know what I expected.” He expected to not feel like himself. To feel a draw that changed him completely. It was part of the reason why he had been so happy to not present at all. He didn’t need another part dictating his life.

“It’s ok.”

“What was it like when you presented?” Harry spared a glance at his arm, “I mean your body.”

“I was randy.” Draco ran his fingers through his hair, “I fucked Theo a lot that year—he’s an Omega too.” Harry felt a pit in the bottom of his stomach.

“Is that who you want to be with?” Harry asked.

“No.” Draco shook his head forcefully, “He’s still one of my best friends—but we’re definitely better as friends than lovers. Theo needs someone who balances him—I think we’re too similar.”

Harry nodded, understanding, “Ginny and I are the same—a bit too similar. I think we could have been life partners, and it would have been great in its own way, but we both ended up wanting something more.”

“She’s an alpha?”

“Yes.”

“So she tried to bond with you.”

“We had a few Alphas I know try to have sex with me, since Reison thought it might settle my hormones—none of them were able to walk through the door.” Harry said with a frown, pushing his fingers through his hair, “Charlie was the only one that was close.”

“An ex-boyfriend?” Malfoy had a light tone, but Harry could see he was curious.

“No, Charlie Weasley is one of Ron’s older brothers. He lives in Romania and works with dragons. I think he likes them more than people.” He probably thought Harry was just making his way through the Weasley family.

“Who else tried?”

“Luna—though I was a bit relieved that didn’t work to be honest. Couple of people I’ve met through the years. None of them were able to get close—step through the door really.”

“The Alpha doctor was able to?”

“We think it’s because he had no intention of mating me.”

“Interesting your body would know that even before your mind did.”

“Hermione found it fascinating too.” Harry got up, not really wanting to talk about it any longer. He was sick of being an experiment, something people talked about rather than to him. Just for once in his fucking life he wished something would have gone well for him. It was unfair to think, so he tried to shake off the thought immediately. Some things had come easy to him—like flying, and Defensive Magic. Charms. He had somethings going for him, and he would do well to remember it. He put his hand on the wall, trying to use it as support as he made his way from the bed to one of the chairs in the room. It wasn’t too far, but his legs were shaking by the time he plopped back down. Draco was quiet as well, seeming to sense Harry’s suddenly more combative mood. It was a moment before he walked out. Harry pulled his legs to his chest.

Harry experimentally looked at the bond that was solidifying between him and Malfoy. The woven material stretched out in front of him, coming more into view the longer he looked at it. Some parts were clearly still being woven together, but others were bonded. Harry was surprised it had come together that quickly. It still felt a bit itchy not to be in the same room as Malfoy, but he tried not to think about it. The IV wobbled a bit as he scratched the untamed scruff on his face. Harry tensed when he heard a sound at the door, he just wanted to be alone for just a _second_ to gather his thoughts.

How long had he been here? Had it been a full day yet? He should probably send a _patronus_ to Hermione. Already he was becoming too dependent. How could he live like this? His throat burned a bit as he closed his eyes.

“Harry?” Malfoy’s voice was gentle when he pushed open the door, but it still burned rage inside of Harry. It wasn’t Malfoy’s fault for this, but at the moment he wanted to punch him in the face, “I’m going downstairs to check on the shop. Here are your books.”

Harry nodded, not quite looking at him before he disappeared. Harry heard the front door to the apartment open and close, then a latch key slide shut. He stared at the ground a bit, marveling at being completely by himself. He felt the bond stretch, the itchy feeling back, but it wasn’t worse than it had been and it definitely wasn’t horrible. Harry took a deep breath, pushing his hair back and glancing at the books Malfoy had placed in the room. He grabbed _The Mysteries of the Omega_ , wobbling a bit as he made his way back to his chair.

The novel gripped him right away. There were things he hadn’t realized he was feeling until he saw it written on the page. The need to be kind to Malfoy, giving him an opportunity to explain—it was all part of the bond. It couldn’t _create_ feelings, which Harry was very relieved to see written down. He had been told it was true, but seeing another omega write it made him believe it more. It went both ways too—which meant Malfoy was being a bit kinder to him. Which explained is stark transition when they were alone rather than in the hospital.

The author, Brigette, went more into detail about the heat she felt sometimes curling beneath her skin. Harry closed his eyes, breathing deep like he did with occlumency. He cleared his mind, listening to his body. The heat was there, brewing deep within him. He knew it was much stronger than what it was before Draco, but he was also a bit frightened of it. This heat is what he was terrified would overwhelm him completely. He went to the bit of the book that explained heat. Draco was right that it was a deeply personal account on what Brigette felt, but it seemed that while it made her a bit insistent—she was still in control.

_Some people romanticize it from my experience, saying it draws them to their lover like an imperio. I find they say that mostly when their lover is around to hear them, to make them seem more desirable. While the heat within me pulls greatly, it is nothing that takes over my senses. I have always craved my husband, and I do not become a mindless sex goddess who will fuck anyone once my heat arrives—as some people would have you believe. This is idealized gossip for male fantasy, not reality._

Harry felt a bone aching relief that he didn’t realize he needed. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a shaky breath. He could fight the heat in him if he needed. Maybe not at the moment, but definitely once the bond settled.

He took the book with him as he made his way to the kitchen. He lumbered along slowly with his IV floating above him. The kitchen was well organized and stocked, it was clear Malfoy ate here frequently. The refrigerator had small containers in it full of equally proportioned food, assumedly for lunch.

“Does master need assistance?” Lyn asked.

“No, just making some tea.”

“Sir should not be having caffeine, Master Draco told me so.”

“I’ll have the herbal kind, I promise.” Harry scrunched his nose, he _was_ going to have caffeinated but he guessed it wasn’t such a good idea anyway. Lyn pointed out where the tea was kept, so he set up his own mug for tea. He let her go back to wherever her room was after she pointed out where some biscuits were hiding. The flat was well decorated, not that he would think anything else from Malfoy. The couch was stylish and modern, facing a telly—which was definitely surprising. There was a wizard radio out as well, which had a litter of Quidditch magazines on the same table. The small kitchen table had flowers placed on it and looked hardly used, but the bar stools and counter top looked used more frequently. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, so he grabbed another mug just as the door opened.

“Perfect. I need a cuppa.” Malfoy shut the door behind him with a slight scowl.

“How’s Parkinson?”

“Annoying as per usual. No sense of personal space—you’re lucky she didn’t try to come up here.” Draco grabbed his own tea bag, throwing it in the mug as he leaned against the counter. He was wearing grey slacks and a white button-down shirt, which was rolled up to reveal the Dark Mark. Harry couldn’t quite help but look at it, sparing it a glance before turning to the whistling kettle.

“How long have you lived here?” Harry asked, filling each mug with water.

Draco let out a breath, “Four years in June.”

“It’s a nice place.”

“Thank you, I quite like it myself.” Harry turned around and handed him his tea.

“You didn’t take one with caffeine in it—did you?” Draco asked.

“No, Lyn already stopped me.” Harry confessed, he rubbed the edge of his mug before he said, “You know the bond is making us be more cordial to one another?”

“Yes.” Draco nodded, “I’m aware.”

“Does it make you angry? You _hate_ me.” Even though Malfoy had claimed not to hate him anymore, Harry couldn’t help but say it again. Maybe it was the hormones, maybe it was the bond that made Draco stop hating him.

“I never hated you.” Harry rose an eyebrow, “Well, I may have hated you a bit back when I was trying to help Death Eaters get into Hogwarts and you kept trying to stop me. But I certainly couldn’t hate you when you spoke for me at my trial and especially my mother’s.”

Harry let out a harsh breath, his heart pounding a bit, “I don’t want you to not hate me because of gratitude. I did those things because I believed they were the right thing to do.”

“I know.” Malfoy said a bit tersely, “Merlin Potter, I only hated you because I _had_ to in order to survive, but if you’re that determined to hate me I understand—”

“No—I never hated you.” Harry interrupted.

“What? Yes, you did.”

“No—I hated Umbridge—Voldemort most definitely, Bellatrix, your father—I didn’t hate you.”

“Well now I feel left out.” Draco gave a weak smile and he looked a bit disappointed for some reason.

“It’s not because I didn’t think you were capable—there’s a reason I followed you around sixth year—I just, didn’t _hate_ you. Maybe because we were the same age, but I always understood you a bit more.”

“So you cut me up for what reason exactly?” His voice was light, but Harry could feel his steely grey eyes boring into him. He could feel the bond stretch with tension.

Harry frowned, feeling a bit sick now for completely different reasons, “I didn’t know what the spell did.”

“Well that is idiotic, you’re lucky it just carved me up and there was no permanent damage.” It was said so half-hazard, Harry almost believed the scars all over his chest _weren’t_ his fault.

Harry looked up from his mug, “I know—I’m very lucky you weren’t killed.”

“Or my nose wasn’t permanently a duck’s nose, or I didn’t lose an eyeball.” Draco rolled his eyes and sipped his tea, “Merlin’s beard, that’s hot.”

“It’s perfect temperature.” Harry argued with a grin.

“Do you like being contrary?”

“It’s why I became a solicitor.”

Draco snorted, “How are you feeling?”

“Still feeling pretty good.” He felt the heat beneath his skin flutter almost in protest of his words, which were true, but definitely a time limit. He flushed as he looked down at his tea cup, “You might have to—have to fuck me soon.”

“Do you think you are well enough to be fully bonded?” Draco asked, setting down his mug of tea.

“I don’t think I’m going to get any better than how I feel now until I bond.” Harry admitted. He rubbed the back of his neck, “Last chance to back out.”

Draco picked up his mug again, “Want to know anything before we’re bonded?”

Harry couldn’t help but glance at the Dark Mark again, “Do you still feel the same way about purebloods and muggleborns—half bloods?”

Malfoy flinched, looking physically pained. He let out a slow breath, like he was waiting for Harry to take the question back. But Harry just stared back evenly, “Come on, let’s sit first. You look tired.” Harry’s legs _were_ starting to feel shaky from standing up so long. Draco helped him walk back to the bedroom. Harry hadn’t realized how tired he felt from just his short excursion. Malfoy helped him get his legs up in the bed. 

“Are you delaying the question?” Harry asked, sitting back.

“No—and yes.” Draco sat by his feet, “I don’t feel the same as I did. I understand that I’m not a better person than a muggle because I have magic. But I still feel like I could be better than them—just like any half-blood or muggle born. I don’t think I’m better than Granger—or you for that matter. I mean, I might be better in some areas than others. And I could be better than a muggle—but definitely not at driving because I suck at that.” He smiled a bit disparagingly, rubbing his pant leg, “I think they’re good muggles and bad muggles, just like _pure bloods_ , half bloods and muggleborns can all be good people and bad people. Because not all Slytherins are Dark Wizards, and not all Gryffindors are good wizards.” He let out a breath, sounding a bit defensive at the end.

“Wormtail was a Gryffindor, and I think he is an excellent example of how Gryffindors can betray people for gain as well.” Harry said, “And Snape, even though he was an absolute bastard, protected me in some ways most of my life. The muggles who raised me were not kind to me, but I still believe muggles deserve a chance.”

Draco nodded slowly, “So if I think I’m better than a muggle who nearly hits me with his car on a cross walk?”

Harry snorted, “I think that’s just being human.”

He let out a breath, “I think it took me a bit too long to figure out what I believe instead of what my parents taught me, but I did.”

“What do you think started it?”

Draco got a bit red and fidgeted his hands, “I’ll deny it until my last breath—but Granger. It’s why I called her names in school. She was everything I was told couldn’t be true. Brilliant. Muggleborn. A witch.” Draco rubbed his leg, “I told my father if she were a pureblood, she’d be the perfect partner.” He coughed, “His response and punishment does not bear repeating.”

“And obviously your father doesn’t care that you don’t like women?” Harry asked.

Draco shook his head, “Pureblood marriage is a business transaction—a partnership. Whom I prefer to have sex with is inconsequential—according to him anyway.”

“Your Mum?”

“If she believes something else she keeps it to herself.” Draco said with a scowl. It was silent, Draco staring at the floor and Harry staring at him.

“Do you have questions for me?” Harry asked.

“Just a plea, I guess. I realize you don’t think highly of me, but I really am doing this to help you. If we’re to be bonded forever, I hope you can come to trust me in some capacity.”

“Same could be said for you too.” Harry pushed his hair back, “I don’t think this is how either one of us pictured our lives.”

“Yeah but—I always was in a bit of a helpless situation. My options came down to marry Astoria out of familial pressure and duty or bond with Potter and have to fuck him occasionally.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh. Draco looked up at him, “Sorry, it’s kind of ridiculous. I was nervous you’d be some old plonker.” He smiled, “My options came down to death or fucking you.”

Draco scowled, “Always trying to one up me.” That made them both laugh. Draco reached out his hand, brushing Harry’s cheek with this thumb. His grey eyes searched his face, but Harry wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for. Draco leaned forward, kissing Harry’s lips softly. He pulled back again, “I promise I’ll hear you out, even when I don’t want to. And I need you to tell me if you need anything.” The tension in the room was stifling. Harry’s whole body was held stiffly and he tried not to breathe too loudly. 

“I promise I won’t hold your past against you—unless you invoke it.” Harry gave a hard look, “And same goes for you too—if you need anything, let me know.”

“May I kiss the bride?” Draco asked with a smirk. Just like that the tension flew out of the room, Harry relaxed his shoulders.

“Fuck you.” Harry laughed into the next kiss, Draco wove his fingers through Harry’s hair. This time it was so much more familiar. Harry wasn’t in a haze of illness—as much—as he kissed Draco back. Draco’s tongue was hot against his, pushing into him like he was trying to possess him. Harry couldn’t help but weave his fingers through Draco’s hair. When he went to pull him closer by pulling his shoulders, Draco’s arm knocked his IV.

“I can pull it out.” Draco said. His lips looked swollen and his hair was a bit mussed. His dexterous fingers easily and quite carefully pulled out the IV. A whisper of a healing spell made the small needle mark disappear.

“Wandless magic? I’m already in your bed.” Harry leered.

Draco laughed before kissing him again.

Harry tried to think of the last time he had hooked up with someone completely sober. Romping around was reserved to the occasional drunken night out. He hadn’t felt settled with anyone since Ginny—and even Ginny was arguably a not settled relationship. He never felt inspired to go on dates or find someone, and every time he tried he just regretted it. His friends were all dating someone and he had met their friends more than a few times over and none of them struck his fancy. Mione and Ron were good wingmen, though Mione a bit more comfortable picking out men than Ron. But that was alright because he usually swung towards women anyway. He pulled Draco closer, moving his fingers to the buttons. How he managed to look buttoned up and yet casual in his shirt was beyond Harry, but he appreciated it nevertheless.

Harry pushed the shirt off Draco’s shoulders, his fingers lingering a bit on the scar tissue, “Can you feel anything?”

“Some spots.” Draco pushed his nose against Harry’s throat, moving up to his ear, “Why?”

“I don’t feel some scars too, just curious.” Harry’s t-shirt was pulled off and tossed to the side.

“It was Voldemort—he’s the reason I have the scars. The wounds from your spell healed.” Draco confessed against Harry’s collar bone. Harry didn’t know why the whispered revelation made him trust Draco that much more as heat curled beneath Harry’s skin. Harry knew now it wasn’t _illness_ , it was his omega instincts pushing him forward. Recognizing them let Harry relax a bit, it meant he knew the instincts between his own thoughts.

“What?” Draco asked, looking up.

“What?” Harry looked back at him.

“You’re being quiet.” Draco gripped Harry’s hip, running his thumb along his stomach.

“I just—I can identify the instincts pulling me to you.”

“You thought you wouldn’t?”

“I—I was concerned about it.” Harry answered.

Draco hummed, “The alpha in me wants to fuck you.” Draco told him, “But I _want_ to do this.” He kissed his lips. Harry smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Draco to pull him close. This kiss had his body tingling and his toes curling. Harry reached down with one hand, tugging on his belt to pull it loose. He pushed Draco onto his back, his white blonde hair against the cream-colored pillow case. He pulled off Draco’s trousers. Draco’s legs were a bit twiggy, but Harry didn’t mind so much, especially considering his own were a bit chicken legged. Harry let his fingers wander up Draco’s shins, exploring. There was a scar on his knee.

“What is this from?” Harry ran his finger over the thin scar.

“I was twelve, training my arse off so I could beat a scrawny idiot on the Quidditch field—and also be seeker for Slytherin. I fell off my broom, this leg sort of hooked on it as I fell.”

“Bull shit.” Harry said.

Draco laughed, his cheeks flushed the muscles on his stomach clenching as he laughed, “No—it _was_ during Quidditch at the Manor, but I was just dicking around with Greg on a broom.” Harry leaned down over him, weaving his fingers through Draco’s as they kissed. His body pressed up against every inch of Draco’s, he grunted as they slotted together. Draco was about half hard, but Harry’s cock still was disinterested.

“ _Omega_.” Draco whispered in his ear and Harry couldn’t contain his nearly violent shiver. His arse clenched as slick seeped out and his cock twitch. The heat beneath his skin burned a bit more brightly as Harry kissed Draco, wanting to tie him down so he could use his cock whenever he wanted. To be filled up. _Fuck._ He wanted to feel so _full_. He straddled Draco’s waist, not caring how the slick rubbed against Draco’s cock. His mind whirred for a moment. This wasn’t like how he usually was in bed. He never remembered enjoying it this much. Harry shook his head, tilting his head back, “You alright?” Draco asked as he sat up and wrapped his arms around Harry’s back.

“Sort of?” Harry’s heart was pounding as he tried to take the reins back, putting his head on Draco’s shoulder, “I lost control for a second.”

“It’s part of the process.” Draco assured him, kissing up Harry’s neck. Harry whimpered, his arse fluttering.

“I just don’t like not being in control.” Harry whispered.

“I know—and it makes it worse that it’s me.” Draco’s eyes locked with Harry’s as he wove his fingers through Harry’s hair, “But I swear, you’re going to be alright. You can trust me to take care of you during this.”

“You’ll tell me if I don’t remember something?”

“Yes—but you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about.” Harry let out a soft breath, pressing a chaste kiss to Draco’s lips. The kiss was a promise to follow through, to hope that their relationship could be built on honesty, “I’m going to knot you to complete this bond.” Draco told him. The mention of it had Harry quivering all over. Draco pulled him even tighter to his chest, “And I’m sure you’ll do something you consider embarrassing, but I’ll do something too. Usually that’s how relationships work, we just skipped all the other steps.”

“Yeah, ok.” Harry whispered, feeling like he wanted to rip all his hair out in anger and also fuck at the same time. He couldn’t help but roll his hips a bit. Draco grunted.

“More than ok.” Draco tugged Harry’s hair a bit, a boyish grin on his face. It was cocky and shy all at the same time. It made Harry smile back.

“More than ok.” Harry assured him, for the first time feeling grateful that it was Draco that would be helping him all along. Because they couldn’t lie to one another. They couldn’t pretend to be attracted, or turned on. They couldn’t fake embarrassment or self-consciousness. They knew what the other was feeling. And Harry could probably use the bond to figure that information out, but he didn’t have to. The next kiss made Harry feel fire. It danced across his skin, and this time fear didn’t follow behind it. Slick gushed out. That made him hesitate. Draco’s nimble fingers were reaching between his legs.

“ _Merlin_ you are so wet.” Draco groaned.

“I’m sorry.” Harry turned bright red.

“No—I find it incredibly sexy.” Draco admitted, his cheeks getting red as well.

“You do?”

“Fuck yes.” Draco groaned, rubbing his hole in small circles, “Think you’re more wrinkly because you’re so wet?” His flush turned dark red, “Fucking hell, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Harry laughed, “Draco, I have to wear a diaper because it won’t stop. I think you liking it is not as embarrassing.”

Draco smiled, “I guess you win there.”

“Shut up.” Harry couldn’t help but laugh again. That _thing_ inside him relaxing even more. His chest didn’t feel so tight as he kissed Draco’s jaw. His fingers were massaging Harry, forcing him to relax even more.

“Omega.” Draco whispered the name in the soft lighting. It was twilight, the last warm bit of sun dipping below the horizon. There was enough light so Harry could see, but not so harsh that he felt like everything was exposed.

“Alpha.” Harry groaned the name, not resisting how he arched his back. His cock started to swell, and _Merlin_ did it feel so good. Draco sucked on his collar bone, moving across his chest. He still rubbed circles, occasionally teasing one finger. The outside was _burning_ and inside the dull ache flared up, “ _Alpha_.” He moaned again.

Draco listened, slipping one finger inside. It went in without much work, and it wasn’t nearly enough. The slight release Harry expected to feel never came, he only ached for more.

“ _Please_.” Harry groaned, spreading his legs out wider. He grasped Draco’s shoulder tightly. Draco pushed two fingers inside, curling up against his prostate. Harry made a high pitch whining sound, grinding down on the two fingers as hard as he could. _It wasn’t enough_.

“That’s it, omega. You’re doing so well for me.” Alpha murmured into his ear and Harry whimpered, dropping his head to Draco’s shoulder.

“Oh God.” Harry purred, nibbling along Draco’s neck. His cock filled even more until it was straining, nearly purple in color. Each thrust had him rubbing against Draco’s stomach, but it wasn’t enough.

“Ready?” Draco asked.

“Fuck _yes please_.” Harry gasped when the fingers pulled out of him, clenching down and aching with emptiness. The nudge of Draco’s cock had him whining again, pulling onto Draco’s shoulders and biting more. Draco glided inside in a long slow push. Harry moved his hand, not quite being able to articulate just how _delicious_ it felt to have Draco inside him. He was seeing stars, his cock twitched in appreciation.

_But it wasn’t fucking enough_.

“ _More_.” Harry begged, chanting it as Draco began to thrust. Harry let himself fall on Draco’s cock with every thrust. But it didn’t fill him like he wanted. Like he _needed._ Draco _please_. He had no idea what he was saying out loud. But he was flipped onto the bed on his stomach. The thrust from behind forced Harry to bite back a scream.

Harry was squirming, trying to thrust back for _fucking more you alpha fucking bastard_. The precipice was moving closer, but it hardly mattered to Harry. He wanted more pleasure, more fucking. And something even more than an orgasm. But _Merlin_ did it feel so wonderful to be pounded into. His hands were starting to hurt from gripping the sheets, but each thrust felt like heaven.

_“Harry_.” His name was groaned into his neck. The acknowledgment of himself made him come with just the thrusts and the friction of the mattress on his cock. Draco’s thrusts slowed down.

“Don’t _stop!_ ” Harry cried out, his tone practically on the verge of panic. He wanted Draco inside of him, moving. Not pulling out. The next thrust was brutal, to remind Harry that he wasn’t going anywhere. Harry twisted under the too sensitive and painful pleasure; he delighted in it. But at the same time he wanted harder and _more_.

“Move with me.” Draco ordered, pulling him up on his arms.

“ _Alpha please_.” Harry sobbed into his arms, pulling on his own hair out of desperation.

“I got you _Omega_. But come with me. I promise I’ll make you feel so good.” The prospect of more is the only thing that had Harry getting up on his shaky knees. Draco pulled out with a squelching sound, Harry cried out in anguish. It _hurt_. Strong hands grasped his hips, pulling him to the end of the bed. Before he knew it, Draco’s cock was back inside of him, Harry’s knees nearly pressing to his chest.

He did scream then.

It was barbaric. His cock hardened again like he was seventeen with no refectory period. Getting hard this time felt so much more pleasurable because of the pain it came with. His cock was already covered in his own cum as it bounced against his body. Draco’s thrusts uninhibited pounded into him. He had the full leverage of standing on the ground and leaning over top Harry. Soon, all Harry could smell was _sex_ , tinged with Draco’s cologne. It was _everything._

It was only getting better. Harry could feel it before Draco apparently noticed. His cock was getting larger as the base expanded. Harry could hardly breathe he felt so full. But he wanted all of it. He wanted to be filled to the brim. His toes were curled as he pulled Draco closer. His cock was an angry red color, leaking all over his stomach.

“ _Alpha_.” Harry crooned. He didn’t think he had ever felt this amazing in his life. It was like flying.

“ _Omega_.” The answer was deep, reverberating through Harry to his core. He could feel the pull in his soul for the bond. In that moment, he paused. Harry felt that he had a choice—he _knew_ he could stop, “Harry.” Draco whispered his name, pulling back so he could see his silver eyes. They looked almost dark blue in the lighting.

“Draco.” Harry said his name back. Something passed between them then that Harry knew meant more than anything that had happened thus far. It was a pact. It was a decision to _choose_ each other. The moment seemed to last a life time. Harry took Draco’s lips with his own, giving him a kiss that was soft and chaste. Draco grunted, thrusting into him again with a bite on Harry’s neck. Harry mewled, feeling warmth burst through out him as the bond wove himself together with Draco. His breathing came up short and he pulled Draco into him as much as he could. Draco had started to come.

He felt so fucking _full_. The knot was rubbing against his prostate, and even though bearing down on it was painful, it only added to his pleasure. The edge was coming closer as Draco ground his hips into Harry, the knot massaging every bit inside of him. Harry _needed_ a hand on his cock to come. He went to reach for it, but Draco had his hands pinned.

“Need to come.” Harry gasped, feeling the semen fill him up, “Alpha _please_.”

“Come for me Harry. Come from just my knot.” He kept pushing it into him, spreading out his legs a bit more. The angle just pushed Draco that much deeper. Harry gasped, so close to the edge he was sure to scream. He arched his back even more, finally breaking free of Draco’s grasp. Draco wrapped his arms behind Harry’s back, one arm weaving through his thick hair and pulling as he gave a particularly forceful thrust.

The pleasure was building up like a wave. It occurred to Harry that he was gasping for air as the wave approached seemed inevitable. He dug his nails into Draco’s skin as the next thrust had him tumbling over the edge. Harry could barely see through the stars, Draco’s hand wrapped around his cock to wank him through his orgasm. He kept stroking until Harry winced in pain.

Draco’s cock was still buried deep inside him. Harry felt like he was floating. Draco moved him a bit, staying between his legs as they laid out at the bottom of the bed. He kept purring complements into his ear, telling him how amazing he was, how great of an omega he was. Harry couldn’t help but preen.

“G-great.” Harry tried to tell him, but his mouth didn’t want to work.

“I got you Harry.” Draco said, pushing back his hair from his face. Harry just reveled in the floating feeling, letting himself slowly come down off the high. Draco sort of laid on top of him and beside him, still buried deep inside Harry. His fingers roved through Harry’s hair, helping him come back to reality like a warm bath.

“Christ.” Harry whispered.

“Draco will do just fine.” He smirked. Harry smiled, chuckling as he wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist. Draco ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, pulling a bit at the end, “How are you feeling?”

“I think your magic cock had the right dosage this time.” Draco cackled. His cheeks were still flushed and his hair was all over the place. There were bite marks already starting to bloom on his neck. One particularly large one was on the bit between the neck and the shoulder. Harry touched the outside of it.

“You’re covered yourself.” Draco told him, touching one with a bit of a jab on Harry’s neck.

“Ow.” Harry huffed.

“You feel alright though?” Draco asked. It took Harry a second to think about, trying to assess how he felt. His skin still felt like fire, even though it had ebbed slightly.

“The heat hasn’t gone away.” Harry said, “I still want you again.” 

“Then we’ll have to fuck again.” Draco said, nudging his nose to Harry’s jaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not blushing... YOU'RE BLUSHING.


	5. Finding a New Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Harry have to navigate their new bond.

They fucked over and over again. Harry couldn’t seem to get enough. The fire inside of him seemed to only dim slightly before flaring up to life again. They fucked in the bathroom, with Harry gripping the side of the tub as he came all over the tile. They managed to get to the kitchen for food, and Draco fucked him on the counter. It didn’t take long to be inspired by the couch, and it was good to lay somewhere else for a bit. Then it went to the floor, and eventually back to the bedroom. Each time the bonds between them wove together more tightly.

In between time they would have whispered conversations. Harry told him things that he never liked to talk about—like his aunt and uncle, losing Sirius and the bit about dying. Draco was equally willing to share. He told stories about growing up with his Father and the amount of times he had been beaten. He talked about the anger with his mother for not doing _anything_ to stop Lucius. Draco was shaking when he talked about sixth and seventh year, the absolute fear in every waking moment.

They pulled the sheet over their heads and talked until they grew hoarse—though the sex might have helped that. Lyn must have come to clean the sheets, because every time they came back to the room there was a perfectly made bed. Harry promised himself he would treat the house elf to something spectacular for her efforts. The sex definitely helped Harry build up his muscles again. Not to what they were of course, but he was starting to feel like his normal self again.

When he woke up one morning, the sun was streaming in through the open curtains. Harry had curled up on top of Draco’s chest, his leg thrown over. Draco had a hand still wound tightly in Harry’s hair, even though he was fast asleep. Harry knew when he woke up that his heat had passed. It still curled somewhat beneath his skin, but it wasn’t the raging fire it had been.

“Fucking hell Potter, get some sleep. My cock is starting to chafe.” His voice was lagged with sleep, he pat Harry’s head softly. Though his words seemed harsh, they were spoken too softly to deliver any blow.

Harry snorted, “What happened to Harry?”

“You’re Potter when you’re trying to fuck me to death.”

“I think—I think I’m ok.” Harry stated. Draco opened an eye at that, looking at him, “How many days has it been?”

“Do you remember everything?” Draco asked, looking a bit anxious.

“Yes.” Harry answered, and Draco’s grip got tighter, “It’s more of like—time didn’t seem to matter.”

“You’ve been here for five days. The heat lasted for the last two.”

“It feels like it’s been a day.” Harry admitted.

Draco scoffed, “Well my cock says otherwise.” Harry laughed, curling up tighter into Draco’s chest. He fell back asleep again, letting himself drift off for a few more hours.

When he woke up again, Draco was still asleep, though his grip on Harry had loosened a bit. Harry pulled himself out of bed. He took a quick shower. He half expected Malfoy to be awake when he came back in, but Draco had just spread out to cover most of the bed. Harry grabbed a pair of clean boxers from Draco’s dresser, then grabbed one of his own shirts. Harry went through his hospital bag to get his wand, realizing he would have to go home and get more things. He took the bag out to the kitchen, plopping it down by the Floo. He cast a silencing charm on Draco’s room so he could sleep a bit longer.

The first floo call he made was to Hermione and Ron.

“Harry!” Hermione greeted him with a smile, “Ron! Harry’s in the floo.” Soon Ron’s head was next to Hermione’s.

“You look better already mate.” Ron said.

“I feel much better. No more getting sick—I haven’t thrown up in days.” Harry said proudly.

“Have you been to see Blaise yet?” Hermione asked.

“I’m going to floo call him after you, I just wanted to say hello first.”

“Oh I’m so glad Harry.” Hermione looked relieved.

“How’s Rose?”

“Missing her Uncle of course.” Hermione stated, “You have to come over soon and dote on her, otherwise she’ll be disappointed.”

“I promise I will.”

“Merlin’s beard it’s good to see you better.” Ron whispered.

“Thank you both for putting up with me while I was ill.” Harry said.

“Of course, Harry. Don’t be ridiculous. You massaged my feet almost every day during the last month of pregnancy with Rose.”

Harry gave a wet laugh, turning to the side a bit, “I think my situation was a bit above and beyond.”

“Well that’s us. We’re above and beyond type of people—well Mione is at any rate.” Ron said with a self-deprecating grin. Harry laughed.

“Thank you both—so much.” Harry whispered gratefully.

“I would say anytime, but let’s not go through that again.” Ron said strongly, and Harry nodded.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“How’s the ferret treating you?”

“He—he’s actually been great. We have talked a lot. The bond wants us to be patient and understanding—but it hasn’t forced feelings.”

“Maybe the bond is building on the obsession you had with him in Hogwarts.” Hermione teased with a small grin.

Harry rolled his eyes, “I maintain that I was correct.” Draco felt like a topic that was too soon to talk about, too precious. He didn’t want to break it, so he changed subjects, “Anyway—tell me more about how Rose is doing?” They chatted for a while, and eventually Rose made her own appearance in the floo. She called Harry ‘Ry’ because she couldn’t pronounce words yet, but she babbled excitedly when she saw him. That definitely made him tear up a bit.

After the floo ended with them, he gave a call to Blaise.

“Potter, as I live and breathe.” He greeted with a grin, “How can I help the savior today?”

“You’re an arse—but you’re an arse that has cured me. So I’m very grateful.”

“I’m glad everything has settled—I expect you and Draco both to be in tomorrow for an exam. We’ll let the dust settle, as it were, before we do a thorough review. But I suspect if you feel as well as you claim, everything will be back to a new level of normal.”

“Is it normal to feel itchy when he’s not in the room?” Harry asked.

“Mates experience it frequently.” Blaise said thoughtfully, “Most say it diffuses a bit as you get used to the bond.”

“So it’s not unusual?”

“Given your circumstance, I wouldn’t bar anything out of _usual_.” Blaise said.

“Ok—thanks Blaise. We’ll see you tomorrow morning then?”

“Don’t run late.” He said cheerfully before closing the floo.

Harry stood up and stretched a bit, taking a review of his body. It felt pretty much back to normal, except feeling a bit weaker and thinner. His arse wasn’t slick anymore, which was probably the best part about the entire thing. He clambered back into the kitchen, trying to decide what to make.

“Morning Mr. Potter.” Lyn said with a yawn.

“Morning Lyn.” Harry answered with a yawn of his own.

“What shall I make for breakfast?”

“I think I’m going to make breakfast this morning, but I would love some help.” Lyn’s face lit up at the word help, so Harry had her chopping things next to him as he made omelets and French toast.

And he also made a pot of coffee because he was going to drink caffeine again.

He laughed with Lyn as he made his omelet, then made Draco’s omelet according to her specifications. The French toast recipe was his own, made easier by the slightly stale bread Draco hadn’t gotten around to eating because of Harry. Harry turned around to place the tray of French toast on the island to see Draco standing in the doorway. He was freshly showered wearing a black sweater and slacks. His face was in shock.

“Hey—I made breakfast.” Harry said, “And am apparently underdressed.”

“I thought you left.” The admission was only because he was so startled, Harry was sure of it.

“No—just made breakfast.” Harry said again, feeling self-conscious.

“Your bag is gone.”

“Yeah, I dropped it by the floo because I need to go home to get clothes—I mean, I think I still have to stay until Blaise checks me out tomorrow.” Harry wished he hadn’t made a huge breakfast _. Of course_ Malfoy wanted him out of the flat.

He plopped down at the bar stool across form Harry, “I guess for all our talking about the past, we didn’t discuss the future.” Draco said.

“Did you want me to leave?” Harry asked, feeling like his heart was on the line.

“No—I just thought you had.” The clench in Harry’s heart started to relax a bit. He’d woken up and Harry was gone, he assumed the worst not because he thought Harry would do it, but because he couldn’t hope otherwise, “I don’t really know how to move forward from here.”

“I think we should date.” Harry blurted out before he could help himself. He surprised Draco.

“Date?” He asked.

Harry stiffened again, “Yeah—I mean—I know we sort of chose this, but it was all sort of forced—and I—I dunno, I want to get to know you.” 

“So more of friendship meet ups?”

“Well, we’re going to be fucking because of the bond.” Harry said, crossing his arms.

“So you actually want to try to date me?”

“Is that so difficult to believe?”

“Yes. Six days ago you yelled at me to get the fuck out of your hospital room.”

“Because this has been the most humiliating experience of my life and then you walked through the door.” Harry’s voice was raised by the end, the silence stretched between them.

Draco rubbed his hands together, taking a breath like he was going to say something then holding it for a minute, “I’m not trying to be difficult—I just—don’t understand how you changed from our original arrangement of trying to minimize the impact of this bond.”

“Merlin’s beard Malfoy, I’m just suggesting it because I like what I’ve seen so far and would like to get to know you better—maybe as something more than just required fuck buddies. I’m sorry I suggested it, I understand you don’t want me to impact your life. I’ll get my shit and go.”

“Fucking hell Potter, that’s not what I said at all!” Malfoy said, quickly standing in front of Harry so he couldn’t walk to the floo, “I just want to know why you’re asking me out on a date.”

Harry huffed, gripping his wand a bit more tightly, “Because I re-met you a few days ago and you seem like a nice bloke I’d like to get to know.”

“Not because of the bond?”

Harry snorted, feeling like he might throw up only because of these questions, “No. The bond doesn’t feel like anything at the moment, and neither do my hormones.” Harry felt the nudge of the bond between them, saw Malfoy trying to pull on it, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know—just trying to make sure it’s real.” Draco let out a huff, he sounded sort of heart broken. Harry took the time to take a review of the bond, pulling on his own strings.

“I can tell you’re feeling apprehensive, cautious. It’s like you don’t want to hope because it will hurt too much to be let down.”

“Please stop.” Draco said harshly, so Harry turned away the bond.

“You’re not manipulating me.” Harry said assuredly, “Your cock fixed mine—it didn’t fuck up my brain. As much as that would flatter your ego.” Draco gave a reluctant grin, “Let’s just feel everything out and not jump to conclusions, okay?”

“Yeah—I can try to do that.” Draco’s smile fluttered a bit, like he was trying to be happy.

“We have an appointment with Blaise tomorrow morning, so I’m sure he could tell us then too.”

Draco nodded, “I woke up and you were gone—I just thought you had realized it was the bond and had made a run for it.”

“And I was really just out here in your pants making breakfast.”

“Those are mine?” Draco sat up a bit to check, “They are mine.”

“I ran out of clean ones.” Harry said with a shrug, “Now can we eat breakfast?”

“Yeah.” Draco said softly, “What did you make?”

“Lyn told me how you like your omelet, and then French toast. I made everything, but Lyn did help.” Harry grinned proudly, sliding over all the food.

“Is this coffee?” Draco raised a brow.

“I’m feeling better.”

“You probably shouldn’t be having coffee yet.”

“I need it.” Harry said with a placating smile, “Want a cup?”

“Yes. Please. Someone kept me up all night fucking them.” Harry spluttered a laugh, grabbing a mug for Draco and pouring him a cup.

“Funny, I don’t remember you complaining.” Harry slid Draco his mug, then walked around to sit next to him at the counter.

Draco laughed, his demeanor much lighter, “How’d you know how to do my omelet?”

“I asked Lyn, though I wasn’t sure if she picked ingredients that she wanted you to eat or not—she certainly tried to do it with me.” Harry said, biting into his omelet.

“She definitely makes me healthier than I would be without her.” Draco confirmed.

“Want to come over to my place and I’ll pack a few things?” Harry asked, “I don’t have any clothes here, and I want to get outside a bit today.”

“Of course, I need to be in the store for a bit, but then we can go elsewhere.”

“Excellent—want to get dinner in Diagon tonight?” Harry asked.

“Sure.” Draco sounded a bit wary, so Harry nudged him, “Where to?”

“I prefer the Leaky, Hannah’s new chef is excellent.”

“I haven’t been there since she took ownership.” Draco confessed, pushing back his hair, “Not because I don’t want to—I just don’t know how she’d react.”

“Your money is just as good as everyone else’s, so she’ll take it.”

“You’re sure? I don’t want to cause a scene.”

“I’m positive.” Harry said, “Plus you’re with me. She’d never turn me away.”

Draco snorted, “Arrogant arse.”

“Always.” Harry agreed.

They swung by Grimmauld Place for a bit to grab some things. It was dark and dreary, so Harry kept Draco in the living room while he threw a few more things in his bag. He wasn’t sure if he was only staying one more night or not, but he prepared for more. It was odd seeing his house after everything. Nothing had changed about it and yet he felt so different. He threw on a pair of jeans and an emerald green sweater Hermione had gotten him for Christmas. He wasn’t trying to show off for Draco—not one bit. He just wanted to look nice. Plus everything was a bit baggy on him anyway considering how much weight he lost.

“Why do you live here?” Draco asked when he came down the stairs, he was poking some sort of doxie contraption.

“It was my godfather’s. I hate the place as much as he did, but I don’t want to get rid of it. It reminds me of him.” Draco reached out and squeezed his hand, having heard a bunch about Sirius over the past few days.

They went through the floo back to Draco’s flat to drop off his bag, then down the steps and into the shop. It was busy on Friday at mid-day. Parkinson and Draco started snipping at each other immediately since one of the part time workers had called in sick and Parkinson was working by herself.

“Draco, I can’t run the coffee bar and find people’s shit at the same time.” Parkinson huffed.

“I can run the coffee bar.” Harry said. The two Slytherin’s turned to him, almost like they had a cue to turn at the same time, “Not saying forever—I can just help out while you two catch up.”

“Potter, there is more than just a coffee pot over there.” Draco said.

“I worked at a muggle coffee shop the first year after the war—I’m assuming wizard espresso machines are not massively different. I can figure it out.” Harry winked, just so he could see Parkinson’s reaction. It was brilliant. Her jaw dropped and she looked a bit grossed out. Harry walked around the counter, towards the center of the store with the coffee bar.

It was _exactly_ like a muggle espresso machine. Harry got to work quickly, taking orders and writing them down on notes so he could remember the order. He took their coins once they ordered, turning to the machine with lowering levels of nervousness every time. By the time he got through the que, he was getting back into the rhythm of it all.

“Mr. Potter, didn’t realize you had come upon such hard times to be working here.” An elder wizard said. He had ordered a decaffeinated latte that Harry was under strict instructions not to tell his wife about.

“I’m just here to help out Draco for a bit. I’m sure Pansy will be back soon to help out.” Harry said kindly, handing him his coffee.

“I was sorry to hear you had gotten sick—you do look a bit thin.” Harry couldn’t fault the old man for saying anything, but the perked ears that all were pretending not to listen turned a bit more towards them.

“I was sick for a bit—but Draco helped with the cure. So now I’m all better—still on the mend I guess with my weight, but I’ll get there.” Harry grinned, turning to the next person in line.

“Draco _Malfoy_ healed you?” The first girl in line asked.

“I remind you that you are in his shop.” Harry said with a raised brow, “But a team of healers helped me recover, Draco _Malfoy_ being one of them.” He didn’t necessarily want to say that Blaise helped heal him if only because it would be easy to look up his specialties. That would mean _Harry Potter Presented_ would be tomorrows headlines. Or _Harry Potter Wonders Why he hasn’t Presented_. Neither one was great. He turned to the next person in line, “Now, what can I get you?”

“Your number.” She said with a blush.

Harry actually smiled, “I’m only taking coffee orders—or tea, or maybe a scone?”

“I’ll take the scone.” Her friend by her piped up.

The next flurry of orders seemed to understand he wasn’t answering any questions. If anyone said anything, instead of being rude, he just said that he was on the mend. A hand pressed against his lower back as he frothed some milk.

“How are you feeling?” Draco asked. If he was honest, probably not the best. He should have known he was going to be tired.

“I’m feeling great.” Harry answered.

“Hm—why don’t you sit for a minute. I’ll make you something—and eat something too.” Draco read right through his lie, so he wasn’t sure why he bothered.

The coffee bar had a large marble counter top extending past the cash register for people to sit up and work on, as well as a smattering of tables, chairs and lazy boys in front of it. He sat up on the bar stool as Draco helped another customer. The crowd had slowed down.

“What are you going to make me?” Harry asked. Draco eyed him up, assessing his caffeine needs. He looked delicious with a towel over his shoulder and sleeves pushed up.

“First you’re going to eat, because you’re skin and bones.” Draco plopped down a massive scone in front of him, all the fixings floated in not too far behind it.

“Anything else?” Harry asked, smattering on some jam on his scone.

“Matcha latte?”

“Perfect.” Harry said.

“If you two are going to flirt all the time, I’m quitting.” Parkinson sat up on the bar stool next to Harry.

“Better than fighting.” Harry argued, pushing a bit of scone that had slipped out into his mouth.

“Not sure about that.” Parkinson was eyeing him up like he was some sort of intricate puzzle.

“Parkinson, I’m not going to eat you.” Harry said with a role of his eyes, taking another bite of his scone.

“Maybe not today, you look too weak to do much of anything.” Parkinson scanned him up and down.

“Magic is fine, so I’d still pose a threat.” Harry argued.

“True.” She frowned.

Harry snorted, “I’m not going to attack you.”

“Harry?” A voice called. Harry turned around to see Neville walking through the shop, “Mate you look awful!” He hugged Harry tightly.

“Thanks Nev.”

“You know what I mean.” He blushed, “I kept nagging Hermione as much as I could.” The sound of something shattering on the floor made both of them turn.

“Sorry.” Draco picked up a broken espresso cup.

“You alright?” Harry asked.

“Yeah.” Draco answered, turning back to his machine with a scowl.

“Did Zabini figure out what happened then?” Neville asked.

“Yeah—he and Malfoy fixed me up.”

“I’ll say.” Parkinson said with a snort.

“Maybe I’ll take back what I said earlier.” Harry said to her with a raised brow, then he turned to Neville, “How’d you know I was here?”

“It’s all over Diagon. _Harry Potter_ is back in Malfoy’s shop.” Neville rolled his eyes, “Figured I’d come in and say hello.”

“Well that explains why the customers ran out.” Pansy said with a sigh.

“Why?”

“We have wards—it means you have to come in with the intent of buying something.” Draco said with a shrug, “Means no one with the thought of jeering and just come in.” He stood a bit too stiffly, “How’d you get in?” He looked at Neville.

“I—I wanted one of those scones too.” Neville blushed, pointing at one of the scones that Harry was also eating. Draco smirked, but did pull one out for Neville.

“I should come here all the time.” Harry stated.

“Not if it drives out all our customers.” Parkinson said with a ring in her voice.

“Well, I was just coming to say I hope you feel better.” Neville said with a blush.

“Thanks Nev—Draco and I should be to the Leaky tonight—maybe you can warn Hannah for us?”

“Sure.” Harry could tell Neville was surprised, but he didn’t blink. Because Neville was the decent sort of bloke, “I might see you there. Hannah works late tonight, so I try to eat dinner there if I can.”

“Thanks for checking in Neville.”

“You’re welcome Harry—glad you’re doing better!” Neville waved, nodding to Draco with his scone before walking out the door.

“Hm, he grew into very pretty alpha.” Parkinson purred, sipping on her own latte.

“I think slaying a giant snake did a lot for his confidence.” Harry confirmed, reaching for the matcha latte Draco prepared for him. It had a beautiful design in the center, and Harry grinned as he picked it up.

“Ever fuck him?” She asked. Draco glared at her, though Harry wasn’t sure why.

Harry snorted, “No.”

“I’d climb on that.”

“Neville went through his wild phase a bit back, but he’s been with Hannah for like three years now.”

“Ever want to fuck him?” Parkinson waggled her brows.

“Pansy!” Draco cried out, exasperated. Harry knew he was missing some sort of dynamic between them.

Harry laughed, “No! Merlin, no. He’s one of my best friends, I don’t see him like that. Plus, I don’t know if he likes men or not—I don’t think so, since it’s never come up.”

“I don’t see you with men out and about either, but look at you now.” Parkinson sipped her latte again, looking a bit evil.

“I’m bi, but I mostly date women.” Harry shrugged, “But obviously men can fuck me too—ask Draco. He fucked me multiple times.” Harry grinned over his matcha latte. The clatter of a saucer made Harry turn to Draco.

“Pansy, go somewhere else.”

“But I’m having such fun.” She said gleefully.

“Go close up and make yourself useful.” Draco said with a growl. He let out a sigh, turning back to the espresso machine. Harry hopped off the bar stool too as Pansy gleefully walked away. Harry walked around the counter. Draco was a bit too vigorously cleaning the coffee stains away.

“Draco?” Harry touched his arm gently. Pansy must have listened because Harry felt the wards close in around the store, the front door locked.

“Yeah?” He sounded tense.

“You alright?”

“Yeah.” It was an obvious lie, Harry didn’t need to touch the bond to know. Harry was quiet, but didn’t move away; Draco let out a harsh breath, harshly flipping the towel over his shoulder.

“Is this to do with Neville?” Harry asked.

“No!” Draco growled, hitting the espresso machine a bit, “Maybe?”

“What’s wrong Draco?” Harry asked. There was a slight whine before Harry was attacked. Draco scooped him up off his feet, kissing him like they hadn’t seen each other in weeks. Fire burned through Harry, and some of it wasn’t his.

Draco was feeling _possessive_.

Harry could tell through the bond that this was about claiming. His own omega instincts flared through him, giving a needy whine. Wanting to let his alpha know that he was _owned_. Draco’s fingers wove through his hair, pulling a bit harshly.

“ _Draco_.” Harry moaned. The flare was burning so hot beneath his skin that he couldn’t breathe. Draco dropped him for a moment and Harry nearly cried. The need to be possessed had taken control over him. Draco pushed down Harry’s jeans and pants within a second, then plopped him up on the counter. A wave of magic washed over him and Harry’s legs were free to wrap around Draco’s waist. He pushed his hard cock against Draco’s slacks, slick seeping out of him. He was chanting Draco’s name. His hands were shaking as they unzipped Draco’s slacks, pulling out his hard cock.

In a moment, Harry was impaled. Harry cried out, feeling _owned_. _Possessed_. He was _Draco’s_. He wanted Draco to know that he was _his_. He pulled Draco as tightly to himself as he could as Draco pumped into him. Draco was nearly feral, biting along his neck with a growl. Draco pushed him back a bit, changing the angle so his cock was pushing right against his prostate. Harry mewled, his orgasm approaching with blinding speed. With his free hand, he wrapped it around his own cock, “ _Draco. Draco. Draco_ ” He chanted until he spilled all over himself.

“ _Mine_.” Draco growled into his neck before releasing into him. Harry was coming down off his high, realizing they had just fucked on the counter in the middle of Draco’s store. Before he had time to think about it too much, Draco kissed him again.

“Is that going to happen all the time now?” Pansy asked from behind a bookshelf. She couldn’t see anything because the wall on the edge of the counter was blocking her view, and both of them were still wearing their shirts.

“Go away Pansy.” Draco snapped, grabbing his wand and sending a stinging hex at her.

“Ow!” She hissed, but only laughed as she walked into the back offices, shutting the door behind her.

“You alright?” Harry asked.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Draco asked.

“My butt is getting numb from being half on-half off the counter—but that’s it.” Harry said with a smile. Draco’s nose was buried close to Harry’s neck. Harry pushed back Draco’s hair a bit, “Want to tell me what happened there?”

“I let my instincts take control a bit too much—Pansy was not helping by needling them on purpose.” Draco said, standing up and pulling out of Harry.

“Jealous?” Harry asked as he grabbed his wand from the counter to clean them both off,

“No.” Draco snapped, then sighed defeated, “I know I have no right to be.”

“I didn’t throw myself at Neville.” Harry reminded him as he zipped up Draco’s slacks, buttoning them back up.

“I think it was the familiarity that threatened my instincts more.” Draco admitted, “Well, familiarity plus he is an unmated alpha.”

“In name only.” Harry reminded him, looking around, “Where are my pants and jeans?”

Draco waved his wand and they came flying over from the opposite counter, “I’m sorry I over reacted.”

“I got an orgasm out of it—plus I could _feel_ that’s why you were acting like that.” Harry explained, pulling on his pants. Draco inspected himself to make sure he was put together, running his fingers through his hair, “It got me all _tingly_. I didn’t want you to stop either.” Draco scrunched his nose. Harry pulled on his jeans and buttoned them up, reaching out to Draco. He was stiff, but after a moment consented to being pulled into Harry’s grasp. Harry pressed a kiss on the corner of Malfoy’s lips, then another one in the center. He hovered close before Draco relented, kissing him sensually. Instead of telling him, he pushed through the bond how he felt. He wasn’t upset by Draco’s actions; didn’t think he should consider them embarrassing. He, in some way, was glad it happened just so they were a bit more on even ground when it came to losing control.

“Thank you.” Draco whispered. Harry hummed, curling his fingers on Draco’s hip. He took a deep breath in, smelling how _delicious_ Draco was after sex. There was just something extra in his scent that _just_ —, “Harry?”

“Yeah—sorry.” Harry stepped back, shaking his head a bit, “You smell _fantastic_.”

Draco smirked, “So do you—come on. I got some paperwork to finish up and then we can head to the Leaky—if you still want to go on that date?” He sounded confident, but there was an undertone in the bond that was a bit insecure.

“You’re not getting out of buying me dinner.” Harry teased, and Draco relaxed.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Draco answered.

“I’m going to eat at least six rolls.” Harry declared as Draco finished closing up the shop. The wards slid down on his shop at Diagon, the blue siding sparkling a bit as the magic set into place.

“You need protein.” Draco countered.

“I know.” Harry scoffed. Draco raised a brow but otherwise said nothing as they started walking toward the Leaky, “Still going to eat six rolls. And the _butter_.”

Draco chuckled, “Any other food spots we should hit up during your recovery?”

“Definitely all the Indian food spots.” Harry was practically salivating at the thought, “probably some thai food—definitely some pizza.” Harry groaned, his hand on his stomach. Draco was quiet as they walked, but Harry could nearly feel the tension rolling off of him. He bumped his shoulder as they got closer. Draco huffed.

“Just—don’t want to cause a scene.” Draco said.

“We’re going to cause a scene.” Harry countered, “People come up to me all the time, regardless of who I am with.” Draco frowned, “Especially since it’s been out in the Prophet that I am ill. Hopefully people will send us a few drinks.”

“It doesn’t bother you?” Draco asked.

“It used to—it made me feel uncomfortable. Especially when you could tell someone was working up the nerve to come say hi. Now I usually just talk to them first, that way it ends the waiting game faster. And you kinda get used to it. Not saying it’s great—one time I got asked for my signature while in court, which was awkward. But the anxiety of it was overwhelming me—so I just decided to let it go. It took time to enact it, o’course. But I can’t stop it, so there’s no use worrying about it.” Draco pulled on his sleeve again, his body not relaxing in the slightest, “I’ll protect you.”

Draco rolled his eyes, and Harry was glad for the reaction, “You’re so annoying.”

“Yes—and I’ll only get more so the hungrier I get.” Harry promised, dragging Draco the last few meters to the Leaky.

They walked inside, Harry immediately saw the hostess, “Mr. Potter! Neville had a table set aside for you.”

“Thank you.” Harry breathed out. It was a busy night for the leaky, people were crowded up by the bar and nearly every table was full. He waved to Neville who was at a table talking to blokes Harry didn’t recognize.

“ _Harry_!” George called out, he was sitting at the end of the bar. He nearly toppled over a chair in his effort to get to him. The warm hug woke up Harry’s inner omega, feeling the familial tie bind all the tighter, “ _Merlin_ , mate. Don’t scare me like that.” George wiped a tear away. George had also tried to walk into the room, but the tall Alpha hadn’t been able to get close. Probably because Harry felt like the alpha was _family_.

“Trying not to.” Harry grinned.

“You smell more like _you_.” George commented.

“I feel better—Draco has been helping me.” Harry motioned over his shoulder. Draco had slid into the booth, talking to the waitress.

“He’s been treating you?” George clearly knew more about the situation, but used vague terms in case anyone was listening. His sharp eyes went over to where Draco was sitting.

“Yes—he’s been good.” Harry said back, “Great, actually.”

“Really?” George raised a brow, “Can’t say I’m too surprised, actually. He’s been good to have on the Diagon Alley Business Board.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “I don’t like him all too much—but he’s got good business sense—and he isn’t as uppity or cruel as his father. You sure you’re alright?”

“Better than I thought I’d be—we’re doing ok. It’s all a bit fucked up, considering the circumstances. But we’re ok.” Harry insisted, “Want to come sit with us for a bit?” Harry asked.

George laughed, “Mate, I think that alpha might bite me if I try.” Harry turned a bit red, “But I’ll give you another hug to make him jealous.” George wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “Don’t be a stranger, alright? Come on over. My flat’s not too far away from his. Maybe I’ll join you for a night cap later?”

“Yes. I’d like that.” Harry couldn’t help but take another deep breath, he smelled like _home_ and _comfort_ , “You smell like your mum’s.”

“I was there this afternoon,” George laughed.

Harry nodded, walking back to the table Draco was sitting at. He saw the basket of rolls was already at the table with the little tub of butter.

“Made sure they came out quick—said they just came out of the oven.” Draco told Harry.

“Fuck.” Harry practically drooled as he quickly slathered the bread in butter. He groaned as soon as he bit into the bread, “Fucking yum.”

Draco had a small smile on his lips, but he quirked his brow, “Don’t chew with your mouth open.”

“So good.” Harry purred.

“How is George?”

“Great—he was just saying hi. I invited him over, but he said you looked like you were going to bite him.”

Draco had the decency to blush, “I’m trying to reign in my instincts. I think it was calm down a bit once we’ve been mated longer.”

“He invited us over for a night cap too.”

“I can do that.” Draco said strongly.

“You sure?” Harry asked, “Going into Weasley territory won’t make you itch?”

Draco snorted, “No.”

Dinner was a bit awkward. They both wanted to have conversation, but weren’t quite sure how to go about it. It was different now that Harry was feeling better. But the talk was warm, and Harry enjoyed watching Draco’s small facial expressions as he talked. They are easy to miss, a slight scrunch of a nose, or a turned down brow. But he was more tactile than Harry would have guessed, not afraid of reaching over the table to squeeze Harry’s hand—or hooking a foot through his under the table.

“Is it more smelly in here than usual?” Harry asked, with a scrunched nose. Dinner had been fabulous, as per usual, and they were waiting for the bill.

“For you, it probably is.” Draco answered, “You’re more sensitive to smells now.”

“Can other people smell me better? George said I smell different.” Harry said.

Draco was shaking his head before the questioned was finished, “Family will know, but some passer on the street wouldn’t be able to delineate. Mates smell different, but that would have been true regardless of what you have been through.”

“What do people with arranged matings do?” Harry asked.

“Look for matches with the best smells available—that’s what my parents did. There were a few women my Dad pursued, but in the end my mother smelled the best.”

“Is that what you would have had to do?” Harry asked.

“Yes.” Draco answered stiffly. Harry reached across the table and grabbed his hand. The stern expression melted slightly at the touch, and he looked up at Harry.

“You smell brilliant.” Harry said, and Draco flushed.

“Thank you.” Draco said stiffly, and Harry got the impression Malfoy did not receive complements so directly very often.

“And you’re a great shag.” That made Draco laugh, it was full body with his head tilted back. Harry went with his instinct, sliding out his side of the table and onto Draco’s bench. He pushed up next to him as he laughed.

“What’re you doing?”

“Listening to my instincts.” Harry said, leaning in a bit more. Draco relented, wrapping one arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer to his chest. Some inner part of Harry relaxed at the embrace, he hadn’t realized how much he needed his Alpha’s touch until that moment.

“I hate being a couple that sits on the same side of the booth.” Draco grumbled, but he didn’t sound that put out.

Harry looked up at Draco, their faces too close to be just friendly, “Until you _are_ that couple.” Draco scoffed.

“You two want to come back to mine for a night cap?” George asked, standing at the end of the booth. The bar had emptied out after the dinner rush. 

“Yes please!” Harry said excitedly.

“You—both of us?” Draco asked.

“Do you not want to come to a Weasley’s?” George asked, raising a brow. 

“I didn’t _say_ that.” Draco huffed out, “I just assumed—

“And made an ass out of you and me.” George grinned, though it wasn’t as friendly as the ones he gave Harry. It looked a bit carnivorous.

“Come on—I could use a drink after the few weeks I’ve had.” Harry stated.

“Potter, you shouldn’t be drinking.” Draco said as they slid out of the booth, “And we have to walk—no apparating.” He looked pointedly at George’s wand.

“Taking all the fun out of it.” George said with a frown as he put his wand away.

“How about a little drink?” Harry asked, weaving his fingers through Draco’s as they walked toward the door, “Like a Lager? George, do you have that?”

“I have that and schnapps, something with low alcohol content.”

“What do you say, Doc?” Harry tugged on Draco’s arm a bit.

“One glass.” Draco said, his grey eyes sparkling a bit as they walked outside into Diagon Alley.

“Sounds good!” George said with delight, throwing his arm around Harry’s shoulder and kissing his forehead, “I’m glad to see you up and around, mate. You haven’t had time to see any of my new ideas.” Harry pulled Draco’s hand a bit closer as they walked, rubbing circles with his thumb. He wasn’t sure if Draco’s instincts would make him jealous or not, but he wanted to reassure him if they were.

“You know I love your new ideas, unless I have to test them.” Harry said with a laugh. The wards shifted as they walked back into Wheezes, sliding shut behind them easily.

“Some of these you might want to try.” George waggled his brows, sliding away from him as he walked up the stairs. Harry let go of Draco’s hand, following after him. They walked up to a small, but well decorated flat. It had just enough knick-knacks to give it a warm feel, but not so cluttered it became overwhelming. The flat smelled like George—a comforting smell with just a strong dose of mischief beneath it. Draco’s shoulders were tense.

“What’s your poison, Malfoy?” George looked at Draco, and Harry _knew_ that he picked that word on purpose. He let out a slow breath, hoping Draco wouldn’t react. He watched Draco swallow. 

“Scotch? Whiskey?” Draco sounded remarkably casual. But Harry knew him a bit better now. He could see the strain. Or perhaps it was Harry sensing him through their bond. He could feel both Draco’s annoyance but also trepidation. It was clear he wanted to make a good impression, for Harry’s sake. 

“Scotch it is—Harry?” George looked over to Harry, looking him over once like he was checking on him, “Lager would be perfect.” Harry answered. He pulled Draco down to sit at the bar stool next to him. He settled his hand on Draco’s thigh, hoping to ease out some of the tension. He knew it wasn’t necessarily possible, but he would try.

“What did the healer say?”

“We have an appointment with him tomorrow morning. But I feel much better—I can eat, I haven’t thrown up in—when was the last time?”

“You haven’t thrown up since potions were in the IV.” Draco said. George slid a bowl full of nuts and another bowl of chips over to them. Harry grabbed them eagerly, even though he just ate.

“Three days?”

“Yes.” Draco confirmed.

“You talk to Ron and Mione?” George asked

“This morning.” Harry confirmed, “We went to Draco’s shop for a bit, then I wanted to get dinner.”

“How long do you think you’ll have to be together?” George asked. Draco stiffened next to him, his chest puffed out. George frowned, starting to puff his own chest. Harry realized it was alpha posturing—body language that would have gone right over his head a month ago. He felt his own instinct crawling at him to support _his_ alpha. To defend him. It was the strangest thing to recognize in himself. 

Harry laughed, both out of joy for noticing his own instincts, and at the ridiculousness in front of him, “Stop it—both of you.” He shook Draco’s knee a bit, not resisting the urge to calm Draco down. He instantly deflated.

“Sorry.” Draco grumbled, “Threatening to take a new mate away isn’t exactly helping.”

Harry hummed, pressing a kiss to Draco’s cheek. It made him turn bright red, but the tension left his body almost immediately. Harry was fascinated by the instincts and how they _worked_. Comforting Draco and supporting the bond had an immediate effect on his behavior, “We’re just going to play it by ear for now.” Harry told George.

“I want to be disgusted that you kissed Malfoy—but seeing his reaction makes me feel a bit better.” George stated, his face a bit scrunched up.

Harry laughed, “Wait till you hear I had sex with him.” Draco waited until George laughed to smile himself.

“Alright, I’ll stop posturing.” George said, “But you’re both alright? Considering everything.”

“Yeah” Harry nodded, “We’ve talked a lot—him being a healer has really helped. He’s given me a bunch of things to read so I can learn about omega instincts.”

“Not the bull shit ones.” Draco added.

“Well—the first one you gave me was bull shit.” Harry said with a grin, “He gave me a kids book.” George laughed.

“Good to know you’re still a dick.” George said while still laughing, clinking his glass with Draco’s, “I was wondering if it was invasion of the body snatchers.”

It was more comfortable conversation for the rest of the night. They stuck to Diagon business and quidditch, because it seemed Draco and George could agree on most things in those topics. Draco had stretched his arm around Harry’s shoulder since they had moved to the couch. It was comforting to have his scent closer. George and Draco were talking some particulars about a board meeting with the Diagon Business Bureau. Harry usually would want to participate, but he wanted the two of them to bond. He also was a bit tired. He loved the smell of George being content combined with his alpha’s. George smelled like mischief—like at any moment something could happen. Like camp fires and cinnamon. Draco didn’t smell like that at all. He was a warm blanket and a cool spring morning that promised a sunny day.

“We boring you Harry?” George asked. Harry must have closed his eyes, because he had to open them see George—and also lift his head up off Draco’s shoulder.

“Did I fall asleep?” Harry asked.

“You looked like it.” George teased.

“Are you feeling ok?” Draco asked.

“Yeah, just tired.” Harry nodded, letting his head fall back down against Draco’s arm.

“Hm—do you mind if we use your floo, George? I don’t think he should walk home.”

“I’m fine.”

“You have over exerted yourself on your first day back to a more normal routine. I don’t want to exacerbate the problem and ruin your progress.”

“Hm, love it when you talk healer to me.” Harry mumbled. George snorted a laugh, grabbing Harry’s empty glass of beer to clean up. Draco picked up his own glass, taking it over to the kitchen. Harry was a bit slow to move, his limbs aching. He heard murmuring, but Draco’s scent didn’t spike.

“Harry?” Draco was kneeling in front of him, pushing his hair out of his face.

“Just tired, alpha.” Harry answered. He heard the two of them talking, but didn’t care as Draco helped stand him up, “Night George.”

“Night Harry—let me know how the visit tomorrow goes.”

“I will.” Harry nodded, grabbing some floo powder. He was excited to get back to their own nest. George’s apartment smelled lovely, but he wanted to curl up in bed with their smells. He was careful to enunciate Draco’s Flat as he stepped into the floo, feeling the familiar whoosh. He took a deep breath as soon as he entered the flat, centering himself a bit. He didn’t like the floo on a normal day.

“You alright?”

“Can’t tell if I’m nauseous from instincts or the floo.” Harry confessed.

“Probably the floo—since you felt fine at George’s?”

“I did.” Harry confirmed, leaning into Draco a bit to smell him, “Not sure why I am this tired.”

“I think you actually might be a bit high.” Draco said as they walked back to his room with help.

“High?”

“Omegas like it when family is together—the mixing of smells, with everyone getting along—it’s somewhat a stereotype. But Omegas are more sensitive to mixing smells and want family together.”

Harry hummed as he pulled off his jeans. He definitely wanted the smell of their two scents together—and the whole room smelled of them. But he knew the bed would smell like the both of them the _most_. Fingers ran through his hair, and he couldn’t help but purr in response.

“You alright?” Draco asked. Harry nodded again. He managed to get tucked into bed with Draco’s help. He curled around the pillows that smelled like the both of them. It took a moment before Draco got into bed next to him, and Harry didn’t hesitate before pulling him close. He didn’t really think about if it would be weird, he just wanted his _smell_. He scowled as soon as he pulled Draco close, his nose up against his collar bone. He felt Draco laugh more than he heard it, “You’re a snarfalump.”

“Sorry.” Harry said, blinking a bit to try to wake himself up as he pulled back, “I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t mind, omega.” Harry’s body shivered in contentment, “I was just teasing.” Fingers wove through his hair, and Harry purred a bit.

“I—I am purring?” Harry froze.

“Yes—it’s a good thing for a healthy omega.” Draco informed him, rubbing his fingers along Harry’s scalp.

“I—I didn’t know I could do that.” Harry confessed as he put his head back down on Draco’s chest. But the itchy feeling came back, and he wasn’t quite sure why.

That was a lie. He knew why, he just didn’t know how to say it.

“What’s wrong?” Draco asked.

“I—” Harry scrunched his nose.

“Harry, you’re not in heat anymore but you’ll still _need_ things. My offer to help isn’t contingent on when you’re constantly vomiting.”

“Can you take your shirt off?”

Draco laughed, and Harry really did love hearing the sound. He sat up a bit to take his shirt off and used a spell to send it back into the laundry bin. Harry was then able to wrap his hands around Draco’s bare chest, pushing his nose into Draco’s neck.

“Goodnight Harry.” Draco hummed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya like it :)


	6. Choosing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talks with Zabini

When Harry woke up, he wasn’t sure where his body stopped and Draco’s started. Draco’s one hand was wrapped around his waist, but the other was still buried in Harry’s hair. His morning wood was pressed tightly against Draco’s leg. Harry had every intention of letting it pass, but he couldn’t quite help but nose Draco’s ear, licking behind it. Draco’s grip got tighter, huffing a bit as he was starting to wake up, his one hand pulling Harry closer. He hummed contently, his smell getting a bit headier. His hand ran up Draco’s side lightly.

“I hope you’re ready to finish what you’re starting.” Draco’s voice was rough with sleep. Harry couldn’t help but purr, rubbing his nose along Draco’s collar bone. He licked another stripe along Draco’s chest, which made Draco laugh.

“You must have some sort of claiming kink.” He said as he gripped Harry’s hips, pulling them so he was on top of Draco.

“Claiming?”

“You’re putting your mark on me—your scent. Letting everyone know I am taken.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Harry asked.

Draco shook his head, his grey eyes staring at Harry—even though Harry couldn’t quite look back. He was certain he was bright red, but didn’t want to acknowledge it.

“It would be a bit hypocritical if I did.” Draco answered, and Harry nodded as his fingers went down Draco’s bare torso. He felt a surge of leaking and he scrunched his nose.

“I think something might be wrong—I am wet again.” Harry frowned.

“You’re supposed to do that.”

“I didn’t get this wet when we fucked on the counter yesterday.” Draco’s hands slipped in his pants.

“It’s not an exact equation—no E=mc2. Sometimes you’ll get wet, sometimes you’ll only get a little.” Draco informed him, running his fingers along Harry’s crease. Harry shivered, grasping Draco’s arm tightly.

“ _Fuck_.” He hopped off Draco fairly quick.

“Are you ok?” Draco asked.

“Yeah, just taking off these.” Harry said with a laugh, pulling down his boxers and tossing them to the side.

“Merlin, you scared me.” Draco let his head fall back against the head board. Harry continued to laugh as he crawled back onto Draco’s lap. He kissed Draco’s lips, pressing his hand to his cheek.

“I’m sorry.” He knew he didn’t sound sorry at all.

“Jump off me like I’m on fire.” Draco said with a roll of his eyes, finally kissing him back. Harry reached between them, grasping Draco’s cock in his hand. Draco grunted as Harry ran his hand up his length, his thumb over the top.

“You’re going to knot me though, right?” Harry asked. He said it quietly, the words leaving his mouth before he really thought about it. He nosed against Draco’s ear, breathing in his scent. He licked up his jaw, mouthing down his neck.

“Oh, Merlin.” Draco groaned, his hips twitching up into Harry’s fist. Harry knew he was leaking all over Draco’s boxer briefs, and he couldn’t help but grind against, “You claiming me with your slick?” Draco asked.

Harry couldn’t help but nip at Draco’s skin, wanting to see it purple up. He wanted to be _full_. He wanted his alpha to be sated and with _him_. He was feeling possessive. He growled a bit, pulling Draco closer. He pulled Draco inside of him, sighing into the feeling as he sank down. Draco’s kiss was _filthy_. He felt possessed as Draco’s hands grasped him even tighter.

“ _Alpha_.” He whined into the kiss. Pulling on Draco’s hair, his other hand scratching up Draco’s skin.

“ _Mine_.” Draco’s growl was deep and reverberated through Harry’s body. Harry nearly came right then. The kiss only grew more possessive, their hands clenched each other tightly.

“ _Mine._ ” Harry snarled. The world turned as Draco flipped him onto his back. The angle allowed for deeper thrusts that made Harry tip his head back to cry out. He felt the knot swelling inside of him as Draco dragged his teeth down his shoulder. Draco’s assault felt like it was going to split Harry in two. He cried out—not sure if it was more pain or pleasure.

And somehow, he _still_ didn’t know where one of them started and the other began. It was teeth and hands. It was painful coming together, but Harry wasn’t sure if it was his own or Draco’s. He felt so _full_. Full of Draco. Full of emotion. The anxiety of not knowing if he were going to live or die, to how he would be mated to _Malfoy_. Then this weird under current of not wanting to be apart from him. Terrified of what Blaise would tell them.

“ _Harry_.” His name was whispered in his ear. He could find his own self for long enough to see grey eyes piercing into him. Harry grasped Draco’s jaw, his fingers weaving through the hairs on the back of Draco’s neck. Every thrust bringing him closer to the edge of pleasure. The bond between them pulling them tighter. It was like Harry could see every bit of Draco’s soul. The dark spots, the parts that looked as terrified as Harry felt. Harry knew Draco had a firm grasp on the bond. So he held tight.

The pleasure sent him spiraling over the edge. His fingers dug into Draco’s shoulder as the alpha bit Harry’s own. His alpha’s knot tied them together, locking them in each other’s embrace. Harry had his fingers still woven through Draco’s hair, so he pulled him close. Kissing him like he could prolong the pleasure. Like they could stay in each other’s arms and forget everything else. He pulled Draco down on top of him. Harry clenched down his cock, and Draco let out a string of curses.

“You’re going to kill me.” Draco huffed with a smile on his face as he leaned over Harry. Sweat had his hair pushed back, and the boyish grin made him look younger than he normally did.

“You’re going to kill me.” Harry said, “Look at this bite, it might get infected?”

Draco snorted, though he did look at the bite, “I’ll put Neosporin on it if you give me a minute.”

Harry laughed, “You have muggle medicine in your cabinet?”

“I do, it’s more convenient in the little tube.” Draco had a grin on his face as he pushed back Harry’s hair. He leaned down and kissed his lips again, “Feeling possessive this morning?”

“Yes.” Harry blushed deep red, “Just—uncertain how today is going to go.”

“I understand.” Draco didn’t add anything else. It was silence between them, but Harry could _feel_ Draco’s anxiety. The feelings that were too soon to talk about or maybe even acknowledge, but still beneath the surface. Harry was glad Draco didn’t try to speak anymore. They just held each other, waiting for his knot to go down.

“Our Lord and savior.” Blaise greeted when he walked into the examination room. Harry and Draco went to his office. The office was empty except for some staff—apparently the remaining staff that Blaise trusted implicitly. Harry still didn’t want anything leaking to the press.

Harry rolled his eyes at the greeting. He was sitting on the exam table in one of those stupid cloth hospital gowns. He had to take off all his clothes for Blaise to examine him. It felt strangely intimate to get undressed in front of Malfoy—Draco—without an explicit reason. And as weird as it was, he also didn’t want him out of the room. He was nervous and anytime Draco stepped away too far, he felt his chest tighten. When Blaise took another step closer, he couldn’t help but whimper, reaching out to take Draco’s hand. Blaise stopped moving, frowning a bit.

“Interesting.” He conjured up a doctor’s stool, sitting on a wheeling chair, “Easy _omega_. I’m not going to take away your alpha.” Harry let out a harsh breath, something inside him easing slightly. It was still like his chest was bound up too tight, like he couldn’t deep breath.

“Sorry.” Harry said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You’re ok.” Blaise said, moving a bit closer. Harry tensed, but then let out a slow breath as he tried to relax again.

“He is really sensitive to smells.” Draco told Blaise, “Most omegas are—but he goes a bit beyond that. We were at George’s last night—and he was kinda zonked out on our scents.”

“George Weasley?” Blaise guessed.

“Yeah.” Harry confirmed.

“You two are close?”

“He is family.” Harry answered.

“Hm—I believe—and this is just a theory given the current information—that your instincts still might be in hyperdrive, but have reallocated a bit.”

“So I am not healed?”

“Well, I didn’t say that. Let me run a few tests.” Blaise started murmuring to himself as he cast spells. Harry tightened his grip on Draco’s hand as Blaise worked. He had to remove the top part of his gown for some of it. And Blaise did have to take a peek at everything on the lower part—and Draco growled when he first tried. He had blushed so red Harry laughed. He managed to keep it to a low rumble as Blaise inspected. Harry found the entire thing extremely invasive, though he understood it was to get him healthy. They ran some bloodwork on Draco too, trying to understand how the bond was affecting him.

“A few more scans—then let me analyze them. You can get dressed once I’m done—and we can sit in my office to go over them.” He waved his wand, the same tingling sensation came over Harry like the tests from weeks earlier. It didn’t exactly hurt, but it wasn’t comfortable, “Now the last one, I need you to let go of his hand, ok?”

The whine caught in Harry’s throat, but he managed to stop it before it came out. It took a few breaths, but he kept staring at their hands intertwined.

“ _Omega_ , its ok.” Draco said, “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” It was said fiercely, yet quietly enough that Harry believed him. He focused his eyes on Draco but let his hand go. Concentrating on breathing in Draco’s close scent, he let his eyes flutter shut as the extremely uncomfortable test began. It took too long in Harry’s opinion. Every swipe of Blaise’s wand was slow. A couple of passes made him wince in pain.

“Ok.” Blaise finally lowered his wand, “I’m done.” Harry grabbed Draco’s hand immediately. He was shaking a bit, and he really wanted to crawl into Draco’s lap—but he managed to keep from doing that. Draco rubbed his thumb on Harry’s hand as Blaise packed up some of his supplies, “You can get dressed and I’ll meet you two in my office—Draco, you know where it is?”

“Yes.” He answered. Blaise nodded, shutting the door behind him. The tight feeling was back in Harry’s chest. Draco moved closer, his free hand threading into Harry’s hair at the base of his neck. They didn’t say anything to each other for a few moments, just standing close to each other and breathing in scents.

“I’m going to get dressed.” Harry said, slowly pulling away. It was clear Draco had trouble stepping back as Harry hopped off the examination table. His heart was racing by the time he was fully dressed again. He looked over at Draco, who looked about as nauseas as he felt.

“Given your level of symptoms—it is assumed Blaise would not be able to break the bond without you relapsing.” Draco said. It was comforting to hear. Harry noticed Draco said it more of a factual way—to not in any way imply that it is what he wanted. He looked ridiculously attractive in his white button up that was pushed up his forearms, wearing simple black slacks, “Blaise will make fun of us forever if we have sex in here.”

“I wasn’t thinking about it.” Harry flushed a bit.

“You kinda were.” Draco said with a smirk.

“I don’t know why I want to stay mated to you—you’re an asshole.” Harry said with a grin. Draco laughed, stepping closer into Harry’s space. He nudged his nose along Harry’s jaw, licking the spot behind his ear. The omega in him breathed a bit, knowing he was _wanted_ , “You’re not helping—this will make me want sex even more.”

Draco huffed a laugh, “Let’s go to Blaise’s office.”

“Together.” Harry squeezed Draco’s hand, and Draco nodded.

“Together.” He affirmed.

Draco guided them both down the hall and into an office that was _clearly_ Slytherin. Harry snorted as soon as he walked in.

“What?”

“Fucking Slytherins.” He rolled his eyes as he sat down on the massive tufted leather couch. There was a table in the middle with two large accent chairs across from the couch. Blaise had an enormous ornate desk behind the sitting area, that Harry would swear had snakes carved into it.

“You’re just saying that because the accent wall is green.”

“With _black_ built in shelves? He just needs a Slytherin banner—oh wait! It’s on a shelf!” Harry laughed.

“Your office probably looks very Gryffindor.” Draco said with a pout, sitting closer to Harry than was strictly necessary on the couch.

“It does not.” Harry rolled his eyes.

“I bet 5 galleons that there are knick-knacks all over the place.”

“What counts as a knick-knack?” Harry asked with a raised brow.

“Anything Luna has given you.”

Harry frowned, “That’s not fair, I have to hang it up.”

Draco laughed, “No you don’t.” Harry scowled, which only made Draco laugh harder. He was still holding Harry’s hand though, as they waited for Blaise to walk through the door. There were a few Quidditch magazines on the coffee table, so Harry grabbed one.

“This is the article I was telling you about—the older seekers?”

“Hm—I read it while you were sleeping.” Draco affirmed, “It was good.”

“You think Victor is going to retire?”

“He is still one of the top performing seekers every year—why should he?”

“He does keep getting injured. Might want to go out while he is still on top.” Harry argued.

“Have you talked to him since fourth year?”

“We see each other a few times a year.”

“You do?” Draco asked, incredulous.

“Yeah. I went to one of his games a few years back and he heard—we had drinks after. Good dude.”

“Did you fuck him?” Draco asked with a waggle of his brows, “Oh my God you did!”

“Draco! You can’t tell anyone, he isn’t out!”

“I won’t—but you’re serious?” Draco asked, a smile on his face.

“I think I miss you being jealous.” Harry said, plopping his feet up over Draco’s lap. Draco pulled them a bit to be comfortable on his lap.

“I reacted with Neville because of the familiarity—not because I thought you guys had slept together before.” Draco pointed out, “I can’t believe you had sex with Krum. What was he like? Please tell me he is a needy bottom alpha.” Harry flushed and Draco cackled, “I feel like all my dreams are coming true.”

“He didn’t care that I hadn’t presented, so that was nice.”

“People cared?”

“I think they wanted the story of big Alpha Harry Potter fucking them more than they wanted the reality of just me.” Harry said with a roll of his eyes.

“And it turns out you two have more in common than not—needy bottom.” Draco said, patting Harry’s leg.

“I have to be _inspired_ to be a top.” Harry said with a roll of his eyes, “Otherwise I just lie back and think of Gryffindor.”

Draco narrowed his eyes, and for a moment Harry was a little worried he had joked too far, “That’s not how I remember it.”

“You always had an over active imagination.”

Draco made an exasperated sound before laughing. His head was thrown back against the leather couch, his Adam’s apple bobbed. Harry laughed with him, “And people call _me_ an asshole.” Harry leaned forward, licking from the base of his jaw to behind his ear.

“Claiming kink.” Draco teased.

“I’m just making you smell better.” Harry argued.

“How is that?” Draco asked with a roll of his eyes.

“Well—you smell great when it’s just you—but you smell _fantastic_ when you smell like you _and me_.”

“I think that is a definition of a claiming kink.” Draco said with a laugh, kissing Harry’s lips. Harry wasn’t sure if they had kissed like this just for the sake of kissing. Not before or after any sort of sexual escapade. It was a kiss to convey emotion, connection. Draco seemed to realize the same thing once he pulled away. His eyes were a bit too wide as he looked down in his lap, which was full of Harry’s legs.

“Ok?” Draco asked, looking up at Harry.

“Ok.” Harry answered.

It wasn’t true acknowledgement, but they weren’t there yet. And that was ok.

Blaise walked in with a woman behind him, “Hm” He said with a slight tilt of his head, “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Surprised?” Harry asked as he pulled his legs off of Draco, istting

“This room is a test for mates.” The woman that came in with Blaise explained, “We can usually guess the state of a couple’s bond by how they sit.”

“This is my colleague, Maia.” Blaise introduced.

“So what does our seating say about us?” Harry asked.

“Since you two are arranged in a way, that is the data set I would use to compare. But 80% of arranged couples sit across from one another—one on the couch and the other in the chair across. The remaining percentage has the largest chunk being the two sitting on opposite ends of the couch, then a myriad of others.”

“Our working theory is because of the business-like arrangement of the mating—they sit across from each other like they are still negotiating.” Blaise added.

“We didn’t really have time to negotiate.” Draco said.

“Not between vomiting.” Harry said with a grin.

“I had Maia come in because I wanted her to look at your results too, just making sure that my closeness to Draco was not influencing how I was seeing things.” Blaise said. He pulled a piece of paper out of the folder and handed it to Harry. It had all sorts of magical and hormone levels. One taken from when he was admitted in the hospital, and one from now.

“From the levels here, your magical distress is lowering. It still has not gone away entirely, but I think that would be abnormal for you just to adjust right away.” Maia explained, “When omegas give birth, it takes them a few months to adjust to the baby being outside the body.”

“My body thinks it’s pregnant?” Harry asked.

“No—just the hormone distress is not dissimilar.” She corrected, “We will continue to monitor you to make sure you are moving in the correct direction, but this scan was very comforting that your mating has indeed solved your earlier issue.”

Harry let out a breath, “Will I have normal heats?”

“You will need Draco to help you through them for the foreseeable future.” She confirmed, “Your omega was suppressed for so long, then ignored—so it will take many years for it to go as strong as what it should be for your age.”

“We also saw Draco’s levels were a bit elevated as well.” Blaise added, “Probably since an omega in distress usually elevates the alpha’s levels as well.”

“But I haven’t had any issues.”

“You’ve been possessive.” Harry pointed out with a smirk.

“I thought—that was just because of new mates.”

“Partially.” Maia said, “Then also because of Harry’s distress. Like pregnant mates—the alpha tends to get protective and more possessive during the pregnancy and up to a year after.”

“I dislike all this talk about me being pregnant.” Harry frowned, looking at his stomach, “Do I look pregnant?” Draco just snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Then there is the issue of your bond.” Blaise added. He pulled out a couple of sheets of paper from the folder. Each showing variations of magical bonds. Harry recognized the scan, but had very little idea of what it all meant. He was sure Draco probably knew.

“These are pictures of different bonds—with different types of relationships.” Maia said.

“Oh—not our bond.” Harry asked, moving toward the edge of the couch to see better. He pressed his leg up against Draco’s.

“This here is someone in an arranged mating.” Maia pointed, “Here is a couple that has been happily married for ten years—twenty years—thirty years. Here is a couple newly mated. This is a couple who is about to get a divorce.” She pointed at a few, but not all of the many examples on the table.

“Things to look at are these areas.” Draco pointed with his left hand, since his right was in Harry’s grasp, “You can see how these areas light up in happier couples—then see how the bond expands as they get older?”

“Oh—yeah I can.” Harry wouldn’t have recognized it without pointing it out, but he saw it now.

“So the ‘love at first sight’ might light this part of a bond up.” Draco pointed to a thin strip of bond, “But as they know each other, it could evolve into this.” He pointed at the developed happy couple bonds, “Or this.” He pointed to another one.

“We’re still getting new data—but these bonds are average of what we expect the different situations to look like.”

“Here is your bond.” Blaise said, placing it on the table above all the examples. Harry stared at it, then back at the examples.

“That can’t be right.” Harry said.

“It is impossible to do an incorrect magical scan of a bond.” Draco said, his voice soft.

“But—that looks like we’ve been mated for years.” Harry said, “It kinda looks like this one and this one.” He pointed at one which was of the couple mated ten years, and one which Maia did not give an explanation for, “What was this bond of?”

“We use this as an example to show couples that have gone through some sort of massive tragedy or trauma. It could be the loss of a child, a betrayal of some sort, even a home invasion has made bonds change—when there was a strong bond but something has made it shift.”

“But—we don’t have—we were mated a few days ago.” Harry stated, like he had to remind everyone in the room.

“Your mating bond was a few days ago—but the only thing I can think of that would make a bond like this without a mating bond is friendship—and saving each other’s lives.”

“He saved me a few times.” Draco stated, staring at the bond.

“You saved me too.” Harry replied.

“So—I think there was a bond between you already.” Maia said, “And the mating bond just, made it official.”

“What happens to mates with bonds like ours?” Harry asked.

“It’s a toss-up, really.” Blaise said with a shrug, “Some people make the effort, fix the bond, and end up having bonds that look as strong as the ones below—stronger, actually, in most cases. The shared trauma brings them together. Then sometimes the bond dissolves—no harm, but it just wasn’t same as before.”

“So you’re saying—we get to choose how this bond will turn out?” Harry asked, feeling the lightest he has ever felt since he got sick.

“Essentially, yes.” Blaise answered.

“So we would not have to stay mated?” Draco asked.

“You would for—oh goodness—at least five years, if not more.” Maia said, “But as Harry gets stronger, the bond will dissolve.”

“If we choose to.” Harry added.

“Correct.”

Draco turned to Harry. His face was a bit apprehensive, “So you’re happy about this?”

“Draco—this way, we will know that if we’re still together it’s not because of me being sick, or because you’re an alpha and I’m an omega, or if it’s because of the bond between us. We will know we’re together because we _choose_ to be together. It’s freedom, in spite of everything. So yes, I am happy.”

Draco’s face lit up, “Ok. So we’re choosing each other.”

“Yes.” Harry answered with a laugh, kissing his lips strongly, “We are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a MINI epilogue next.


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regrets?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dipping my toe back in the writing pool has been difficult for me. I constantly second guess myself, and I worry about everything. I know I have spelling errors, and I haven't done everything correctly. I worry about it being disjointed, not true cannon to the characters, that they move too fast.
> 
> But at the end of the day, its fanfiction. And I did enjoy writing this type of story. I hope you enjoyed reading it.

**One Year Later**

Harry rolled up the paperwork on his desk, looking up to see the people of Diagon walking around the street. There were families and new Wheezes bubbles shaped like animals.

“Harry? You ready?” Draco’s voice called to him. Harry couldn’t help but smile back at him. His hair was a bit longer than it was a year ago and he still had a way of stopping Harry’s breath when he walked into a room. He was wearing a white button down with navy slacks today. Though Harry was told they were casual, he didn’t really understand how Draco thought any sort of slack was casual. He had navy blue robes that went with the pants that he must have tossed aside during the day because he was wearing it when he left for work that morning.

“I was just rolling everything up.” Harry said, motioning to his scrolls. They had been mated for a year and a few days. If Harry had known what it was going to be like that first year, perhaps he would have thought differently. It had been delightfully naïve of them to walk out of Blaise’s office, holding hands, and hoping the world and their friends would just move on.

It had been a very difficult year. Harry had to explain to his friends over and over again why he was still dating Draco. Why he wasn’t doing the absolute minimum to just stabilize the bond. The thing about _choosing_ each other was great. But it also meant they had to _keep_ choosing and explain to their friends why they were _still_ choosing one another.

There was one instance Harry had nearly walked away. He couldn’t take Draco’s family. His friends. His _social circles_. All the bull shit that didn’t really matter. He wouldn’t be used as a favor for anyone in Draco’s old social circle. And when Draco said it was pretty hypocritical that he would help Gryffindors but not Slytherins, well that didn’t go over too well either. But it wasn’t the same. Harry was _not_ going to help _Lucius fucking Malfoy_ try to get power at the ministry. And while Draco might have had a point about hypocrisy, he wasn’t going to win it on Lucius Malfoy’s back.

Harry left Draco’s flat without any intention of going back. He planned to go through his next heat sick because _fuck that Slytherin asshole_. His heart felt like it was being ripped in tiny pieces. But Draco had found him, he apologized, groveled, and swore that he would never ask Harry again for favors for his family. Harry pointed out that he knew he was prejudice against Slytherins, he would work on it. But he didn’t think he would ever be comfortable with the idea of helping rich people get away with shit because they were rich.

It took them a long time to find a way to come together after that fight. Because even though Harry came back, he had squirrelled a part of himself away to protect his heart from that sort of pain. He was just waiting for the next time Draco would disappoint him. Or _demand_ something that Harry would not give.

It was Draco that eventually called him out—saying he had been distant for months. That if he wanted out—than he should just say so.

Draco had cried. He confessed to Harry that he _loved_ him. Without reservations. Without hold backs. Without wanting anything in return. But he couldn’t do it if Harry didn’t love him. Because it felt like every day was torture. To wake up and _know_ your partner wanted nothing to do with you.

Harry admitted that he pulled away because he _loved_ Draco. And he was terrified of being hurt like that again when it was clear Draco did not love him.

So they were both stupid. But figured it out.

Family stuff with the Malfoys was still impossible. Harry was invited on ceremony, but wasn’t actually allowed to show up. Not that he wanted to attend any sort of fancy pureblood party, but Harry was allowed to be pissed on principle. And it was like walking on glass to bring Draco around his friends. The only people Harry felt like they could be themselves around was George and Theo. And Luna, eventually—alright and Neville and Hannah were good to be around too.

Ron and Hermione were difficult for a while. Hermione was so convinced the bond had changed Harry, that she really didn’t _listen_ to him for a while. When Harry gave an exasperated look to Ron to have him convince Hermione that he was ok, Ron just shrugged his shoulders. He knew Hermione wouldn’t stop unless she was absolutely convinced Harry was alright. But Ron was always in Harry’s corner, quick to defend his right to be in a relationship with whomever he wanted to be with—even if it was a ferret. They were now on better terms. And it wasn’t glass—but the truce still was pretty easily broken. Ron wasn’t bad, but Draco still didn’t like him too much. But Ron didn’t like Draco either—so it became this weird fondness for each other for both still thinking the other was an idiot. Harry couldn’t really keep his head on straight—but he knew that they now went out of their way to sit next to each other at all family functions. When Harry tried to challenge that they were actually _friends_ , both of them were appalled at the notion. Harry gave up trying to understand their relationship, as long as it meant they didn’t argue.

But despite everything, Harry _knew_ his alpha. After everything they had been through, their bond wove together tight and burned brightly. They just had their one-year scan, and the last part of testing Harry would have to take for a year. Now he could just have normal scans, like a _normal_ omega. Draco liked to tease him that he wasn’t normal, but now Blaise had given him a piece of paper that said he was normally functioning. Draco still teased him, but Harry didn’t really think that would change anyway.

“You ok?” Draco asked, rubbing his shoulders.

“Yeah—just thinking of our year.” Harry replied and Draco hummed, “I’m glad I didn’t know the bull shit we had to go through this year when I signed up.”

Draco snorted, “Same. I would have never taken Blaise up on his offer. I think Astoria would be a much better mate.” Harry turned from his desk to glare at him. Draco’s face was carefully blank for only a moment before it broke into a massive grin, “I could have laid back and thought of Slytherin every time.”

“Like you would have been able to get it up.” Harry countered. Draco’s dry humor had taken some getting used to, only because sometimes Harry didn’t recognize the sarcasm, or didn’t trust it to be sarcasm at all. They had a few fights where Draco’s dark humor had gotten the best of him. But now—now he _knew_ Draco— so he was able to recognize Draco’s humor faster—and Draco was better at nudging him when he was kidding, rolling his eyes at Harry.

“Thinking of Slytherin always makes me hard.” Draco said with a bit of an evil grin, leaning down to capture Harry’s lips. 

Harry snorted, leaning up into his grasp, “Hm, Slytherins and phallic symbols—and it’s a wonder you’re gay.”

Draco laughed into the kiss, “Come on—we’re supposed to have dinner with Theo. You know he is going to show up early.”

“And I’m always late, I have a reputation to uphold.” Harry said with a grin.

Draco’s face looked serious for a moment, taming a wayward piece of Harry’s hair, “Would you really change it all—if you went back?”

Harry instantly thought of all the good times. Of all the laughter until Harry’s stomach hurt at Draco’s _ridiculous_ sense of humor, that he now understood so much better. Of how Draco would bring him endless tea on late nights when he was pouring over briefs. How Draco would help him reword things, find obscure laws, or listen to part of his arguments when Harry practiced for court.

Harry remembered the time he had thought he was pregnant. With his scarring and situation, it would be a difficult fertility journey. But they had been reckless one heat. And Harry thought he might be pregnant. He took the test—and he couldn’t quite explain the grief when it had come back negative. But Draco held him and never made him feel like an idiot for crying. Of wanting something, and not wanting something, all at the same time.

Harry didn’t realize sex could be so _fun_. Or that he could laugh so much in a relationship. Sometimes it was good to have a Slytherin on his side. 

Harry smiled, briefly kissing Draco’s lips, “No. I wouldn’t change a moment. You?”

“Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end! Thanks for going on this journey with me.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr! I am Caedes12. I'm not on it very often, but I do enjoy when people reach out.


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